The Art Of Living
by Mage of the Heart
Summary: When Rosa McKellen is brutally murdered, Gene and Alex find themselves drawn together, and as they slowly learn to love, they begin to realize what it means to live. Rated M for mature themes/situations.
1. The Crime

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**This is going to be a quite dark, at times probably upsetting story as far as the policing side of Alex and Gene's work goes, so please, don't read if you don't like that sort of thing. It's going to touch on sensitive topics and you might not like it... but I wanted to try a real A2A fic, as opposed to little oneshots, so I hope that this will explore both the policing and personal relationships in GALex, as well as, hopefully, being a little bit –apologies for the geekiness- educational.**

**There are going to be controversial topics brought about in later chapters, and I hope I do them justice.**

**For those of you who continue to read, thank you, and I hope it's going to be worth it.**

**----**

As far as crimes went, Gene Hunt thought he'd seen it all; he'd wrapped up cases of rape, paedophilia, murder, suicide, robbery, fraud, and all other forms of criminality that he could think of. In fact, sometimes he looked back at old cases, not for extra leads or links to the current case, but just to see which diggings had earthed up good results, and which had lead to dead ends. Murders, in particular, were likely to find him flicking through old case files to see key suspects relationships to the victim, and though he knew every case was different, he was good at identifying which leads might turn up something new and useful.

That morning though, he saw things he'd never even heard of, let alone solved. Having already wrapped up a Post Office job that morning, he found himself arriving at a run-down warehouse seated right along the Thames, screeching round the corner in his own unique manner and pulling the handbrake sharp to send the car skidding to a halt, barely pausing to breathe before pushing open the door and stepping out. While his team spent a minute or two trying to calm themselves and their stomachs, he'd started on his walk towards the crowd of people along the riverside itself, all of whom were speaking in loud and hysteric voices. As he reached them, he flashed his badge, saying nothing and leaving words to his esteemed DI as she ran to keep up with his long-legged lead, though all she managed to say was "Police business, please step aside," in a way that was far too courteous for his liking, and if he hadn't been so shocked by what he saw before him, he'd have told her so.

He felt Alex Drake join him, standing at his side in her usual hoity-toity manner, and he heard the gasp that escaped her lips. He felt for her; in that moment, he could only imagine the motherly, innate need within her, to reach down and gather the poor, fragile mess into her arms and sob helplessly... because it wasn't right, he thought, that someone would feel enough rage to inflict this much pain and grief on someone so young...

There was a mass of blonde hair, shot through with a streak of red that he might have taken for a stylish highlight had the streak not then continued into a puddle that fanned out behind the head, and had it not dripped down the barely visible white of skin. There was a large chunk missing from one cheek, another on the shoulder, the chest, the rib, the arm... Gene could feel the bile rising in his throat, and he saw Alex moving away, heard her heaving as she brought up what was probably a measly breakfast and last night's pasta, doing what he wished he had the freedom to do, but what he knew would inspire no sense of faith in his ability as a policeman. So he held the tide of sickness back, looking at the motionless body before him for several more moments before gruffly saying, "someone tell me who, what and where before I string some undeserving sod up by his bollucks... NOW!"

There was a startled wave of movement as the shocked, white-faced crowd all looked from one to the other, waiting for someone to step forward, to explain the situation to him... it was several moments of great impatience later that a man dressed in anorak and tweed trousers stepped forwards and began to talk, immediately giving Gene the excuse to look away from the ugly scene before him, muttering to Ray and Chris to clear the scene and get forensics before turning his steely gaze on the old man.

"I found it this mornin', off'ser... was out on me boat, see... 'bout an hour ago... and it were just... floating like... so I brought it out... thought they might be alive, like... still warm when I got there but 'snot live..." The man was in his early fifties, Gene guessed, and he looked as if he'd weathered most of those years on the boat he mentioned; his skin was battered and worn, peeling and sore to the eye, red with sun blisters and cracking along the contours of his face.

"What's your name?" He said, seeing Alex returning, her face as white as the jacket she'd thrown around herself on the way out of the station earlier that morning.

"Joe Ellison, off'ser..."

"I'm an Inspector," Gene said gruffly. "What'd you do when you found her?"

"Brought it out, Inspector... and called for 'elp like... an' some'un called the police once we knew he... she... it... were dead like...." The man looked abashed, ashamed at being unable to give a true summation of the victims gender, but truth be told, Gene wasn't so sure himself. The hair was cropped in that mid-length style that was fashionable for both males and females of the moment, the face was so covered in blood it was difficult to distinguish any notably significant features. The clothes were baggy, a big white jumper, stained impossibly red, that looked three sizes too big, with holes in various places, all above the inflicted wounds, and though it was wet from the river and clinging to the slip of a body that was there, the victim was so skinny, with legs noticeably spindly and thin encased in the fashionable drainpipe jeans, there was no way of making out any differentiation without removing the clothes, and if it weren't for the dress sense, Gene wasn't sure they'd have been able to guess at the age either.

"Nobody has any idea who then?" Alex said quietly from Gene's side, and he nearly turned to look at her and check she wasn't going to throw up, before deciding it was not a good idea. The crowd conceded that nobody was aware of the victim's identity, and Gene ordered statements and names to be collected from those at the scene, and when the body had been collected and taken away, having collected their evidence and passing it on to forensics, he rounded his team together and drove back to the station, opting for the slower choice of speed as he saw his DI's face turn green at the prospect of returning to the car.

---

Back at the station, they had to wait three hours before forensics were able to tell them anything, and so Gene set Ray and Chris to trawling through the ten or so statements they had collected, setting Alex to making cups of tea, opting for the lesser of two evils; either she had to read each person's gruesome description of the body, or she had to make him and the others tea and he had to endure her bickering for the rest of the evening... At two o'clock though, after he had ordered another coffee and garibaldi, she stormed into his office, slamming the door behind her as her face contorted with anger.

"Give me some real work Guv. I'm not your bloody tea maid and I don't need sheltering. I can handle the case, I can handle the statements, just let me _do_ something instead of just sitting here thinking about it!"

Gene didn't answer immediately, standing up and silently admitting he'd done a dumb thing in leaving her to stir coffee and tea all afternoon. But he wasn't going to apologize for it; he'd seen the state she'd gotten herself into, and he knew she wouldn't have handled immediate contact with that case... and now, she was either going to thank him or hate him, because he reached for his coat, throwing it around himself and buttoning it up before gruffly muttering. "Right. Come on then, Bols. Forensics it is."

---

Gene had thought that, once the victim had been cleaned up a little, perhaps had their gouging wounds cleaned and their face cleared from blood, it might have been less scarring to look at; unfortunately, he was shocked to discover that it was worse, even uglier than before, and when Alex clutched at his arm and covered her mouth, it was all he could do not to turn around and drive the two of them as far away from this as possible; but they both knew that he wouldn't, because this was their job... it was what they did, every day of the week, and though it was ugly and horrific, it was their job to bring the bastards who did it to justice.

But nothing would have prepared either of them, he thought, for what was waiting for them.

The face, had it not been greatly disfigured by the chunk which had been grotesquely butchered off, would have been pretty, had the lines around the eyes not been so pronounced, and the mouth not been set in such a defeatist manner that it dragged the eye downwards and gave the instant air of sadness and depression. There were dark circles that shadowed the eyes, almost purple in colour, as though a permanent feature, not a result of a single nights deprivation from sleep. The tendons and muscles of the face were laid bare to the eye from where Gene and Alex stood, and without the presence of blood, it brought a whole new level of gruesome to the scene.

It transpired that the victim was female and seventeen years of age; the forensic team informed them that she was anorexic and undernourished; with dry, yellowing skin and a dangerously low body weight, there were only so many possibilities to draw. The gouges made in her skin –which, thankfully, had been mostly covered up by the large sheet of plastic- were made by a serrated edge, and the marks made lead the investigator to believe the attacks were haphazard and frenzied, as opposed to premeditated, with the cuts inflicted at irregular angles.

"There's something else," the man, Bronson, said as Gene and Alex looked at the ruined young woman before them, Alex's hand still clutching at Gene's arm as she stared, tight-lipped and drawn. "We've never seen anything like it... but you might want to take a look for yourself." He pointed to the gouge in the girls face and said, "look closely, Inspector, and tell me what you make of that."

Gene looked at Alex, wondering if she wanted to accompany with him or stand back; when she didn't release his arm, he nodded reassuringly at her, then walked across to where Bronson stood, bending down and following the line of his finger. Alex didn't bend down, but her grip on him was continuous.

"Bloody nora," Gene muttered, "what's that lump?"

He shouldn't have been surprised that Bronson looked at him in distaste at his outburst; he was displeased with himself for being so disrespectful towards the dead, but he couldn't help it.

Because he knew it wasn't normal, wasn't right, for there to be an extra, protruding lump of yellowish-white coming from someone's chin. "And why's it snapped?" He added after a moment, taking in the slightly splinted appearance, the slight sharp edge...

"It's bone." Bronson said softly. "And it's snapped," he reached for a Petri-dish on the side and picked it up, holding it out for Gene to look at, "because this should have been attached to it."

Looking at it, Gene felt sick. It was a bone, Bronson said, but it was lumpy, non-functioning and uglier than any bone he'd ever seen. Looking from the dish to the victims chin, he could see where the two edges would fit together, and was dumbfounded by the surrealism of the whole thing; because people didn't just sprout bones from their faces, did they?

"It's brittle, so we can confirm the chances of anorexia... but I've never seen the likes of this before... it's unheard of; but there's several of them..." Bronson moved round the table and pulled the blanket back slightly to reveal the shoulder wound; looking closely, without the distraction of blood and the large jumper, the bone was obvious, and, as with the other, the bone was splintered.

"Are they all...?"

"Yes, every wound, there's extra bone... but I can't explain it, Inspector... I've never heard of anything like it and..."

"It's F.O.P," Alex said quietly. Both Gene and Bronson looked at her in surprise, as though they had forgotten she was there, or as though she shouldn't have been speaking... and then also in confusion, as they wordlessly enquired as to what on earth F.O.P was. "Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressive..." at the looks on their blank faces, she added softly, "it's latin."

"Never 'ave guessed that Bollykecks," he muttered, standing up and looking away from the girl on the table before them. "What is it?"

"It's a rare, very unheard of, bone disorder..." Alex murmured, eyes fixed on the face of their still unidentified victim, "only about two hundred people in the world have it... the muscle gradually ossificates into bone, and often the patient develops extra growths of bone... lumps, on the face, ribs, back..." She gulped and, after hesitating briefly, took her hand from Gene's arm and lifted the sheet from the girl's feet. Apparently, what she saw confirmed everything, though both Bronson and Gene remained blatantly naive to anything.

"Look," she said, motioning for Gene to stand beside her and pointing at the girls toes, "her big toes smaller than all the others..." She gently laid the blanket back over the feet and swiped at her eyes. "It's fatal," Alex managed, "the bone-growth leads to the crushing of organs, and there isn't a cure... it's... it's horrific." Looking at Bronson, she said, "how hard was it to move her? Was she rigid at all? More so than usual at least?"

Bronson frowned. "I... I don't know... she wasn't floppy... but that's hardly surprising. The body goes into a reflexive state of tension if under attack, and it's likely that if someone was chopping at her face she'd feel more than a little..."

"Yes but I mean... her limbs... were they stiff? Some people... some sufferers I mean, have it badly enough that their upper body freezes into position... it works its way down the body, from the face down... so the legs would be less affected..." She was getting into her element again, and Gene was hopelessly relieved to see she'd managed to overcome the emotional side to show her usual, brain-box self.

"Not noticeably more than anyone else..." Bronson was clearly having difficulty comprehending the situation, but Gene was looking at Alex, seeing the dawning look of a hunch in her eyes.

"What you thinking, Bols?" He asked, looking deep into her eyes as he asked her and seeing sadness and empathy beneath the gleam of tears on her brown orbs... and he knew she'd thought of something, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what.

"I don't think it was murder, Guv," she whispered, voice cracking. Gene stared at her, not sure he'd heard right.

"What?" And he knew his reply was gruff and coarse, but he thought he knew what she meant, and he wouldn't believe it.

"I don't think it was murder..." Alex repeated, eyes falling to the haphazard gouges in her chin and shoulder. "I think it was suicide."

---

**I don't know if the forensics man actually has a name, so I gave him one of my own... but this is the start – As I warned at the beginning, it is going to be dark, a little morbid, and it may upset some people. **

**As far as your opinions on this first chapter goes, I'd like them, so I can make a decision as to whether to continue or not.**

**And as far as the information for FOP goes, I've gone by what I can summarise from a couple of articles and definitions I've read.**

**Let me know your thoughts.**

**Thank you**

**Mage of the Heart **


	2. Collecting Evidence

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

---

He looked from Alex to Bronson, the word 'suicide' ringing in his ears before he opened his mouth, closed it again in disbelief, then finally managed to ask, in a gruff, grunting voice, "Suicide, Bols? What about this looks like suicide to you?"

Alex stared at him as though he were crazy, but he honestly couldn't see it; self-mutilation was extremist, not the kind of thing a seventeen year old girl from London engaged in, and if she'd wanted to kill herself, there were better, quicker, more efficient ways to do so. "What about this looks or sounds like _murder_ to _you_?"

"Well the fact she was face-down in the river rings a few bells you nonce!" Gene was completely nonplussed and, apparently, so was Bronson. "How'd she wind up in the tossing river if she did it to herself?"

He thought he'd stumped her, for a moment, and it was a bloody blissful moment too, until she opened her mouth and spoke as though it was purely logical... and he had to admit, it would have made sense, for the most part, if the evidence wasn't to the contrary... "It's not difficult. She came to the river because it was quiet at that time, and the warehouse was run –down; it probably has a few tools left in it, and it's the perfect site for suicide because nobody would expect anyone to be there for a long while, and by the time they find you they won't be able to do anything to help you. She picked up a tool, probably began to... to..." Alex took a deep breath before going on, "to hurt herself, inside the warehouse, and then, when she was in so much pain she didn't want to wait anymore for death, she probably stumbled across to the river and tried to drown herself."

Gene stared. "Where do you get this bollucks from, Bollyknickers? Did you see any blood on the pavement between the warehouse and the river?"

"To be honest, Guv, I was too busy throwing up my last twenty meals to really notice anything except the dead body we got called to investigate." It was blasé and matter of fact, but it was cold and bitter, and Gene didn't bother to push at her. Standing back from the table, he nodded to Bronson.

"Find anything else, Bronson, and you give us a bell. I'm taking my esteemed colleague for a bloody long drink."

----

"I'm telling you Gene, its suicide!" The second they were out of the lab, she was on him, debating and cross-referencing each small detail to argue against him. He got five steps down the hall before he turned, grabbing her by the shoulders and meeting her brown, now wide eyes, looking into them with meaning as he said.

"We don't know anything about that girl; right now we don't even have her name, Bols, so there is no way I'm putting it down to suicide without a bloody good reason!" His eyes were flashing, but hers were full of that brilliant determined flare he found intoxicating.

"She's anorexic Gene- she's already got low self-esteem based on body weight, and she's got a terminal disease. Do you not think that might be enough of an influence to push her over the edge?" She was getting angry, and he knew it, but he also knew that he wasn't letting the investigation pass as a suicide without knowing a great deal more.

"Look posh-knickers; just because she was uncomfortable with the idea of getting fat doesn't mean she wanted to knock herself off. So you drop this hoity-toity, toffee-nosed psych-twattery right now and get your mind set on finding out who the bloody hell that girl is! Then maybe we'll start thinking about who did it!"

---

When they got back to the office, she threw herself into her seat and started trawling through the missing person's lists, to no avail. It seemed that their mysterious victim hadn't yet been notified as missing, and so Alex stormed back into Gene's office and said, rather more aggressively than was really needed, "I'm going back to the crime scene. Are you coming?"

"Missing persons list, Bols, I told you." He absently threw a dart at the board, scoring a triple twenty and smirking to himself before turning back to look at her. "Have you done that?"

"It's no good, Gene. There's nobody matching her description been reported missing yet; it's likely her parents expected her to be out all day... We might not get anything until tomorrow, and I want to look at the warehouse."

"Didn't you say this girl was terminally ill?" Gene said, pouring himself a whiskey and throwing it down his throat before raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I did..."

"Then why would her parents let her out all day, Bollykecks? Girl of seventeen, apparently anorexic and bout to cop it... why'd you let a girl like that wander about, 'ey? Looks like a perfect alibi really doesn't it; parental murder, doesn't notify the cops about her disappearance..." He was rather impressed with that answer, if truth be told, and were he given the chance he'd like to rub his argument in her face.

"Just because she was ill doesn't mean she couldn't have had friends to stay with, Guv. And you can't start blaming her parents without evidence." Surprised by her cold voice, Gene blinked, then stood up straight, placing his glass back down on the table as he reached out for the coat-stand and unhooked his overcoat.

"Never said she couldn't have friends, Bols... now get your tight little arse ready and get Ray and Chris on the job; we're off to the warehouse."

She glared at him, obviously annoyed that her own idea had been represented as his own, and that he'd so blatantly avoiding answering her own retort, before turning out and telling Chris and Ray to get a move on. In five minutes, they were speeding down the streets in the Quattro, Gene's earlier lethargic pace forgotten as he swerved around corners and dodged around other cars at breakneck speed.

---

The warehouse doors opened at the touch of Alex's hand, swinging creakily away from her and revealing the dusty, mostly empty room, but for a few cardboard boxes and thinly laden shelves. "Come on then Bols, what wonderful psychiatrical insights do you 'ave for us today? I see dust, and I see boxes... I think it's a sad little man, who never knew his Daddy, don't you?"

"Firstly," she said harshly, "it's psychological, not psychiatrical, and secondly, I don't have any yet, which is why we're here." Having shot a look of daggers in Gene's direction, Alex strode off, her long legs carrying her across the room like a spectre from some surreal dream. Gene, Ray and Chris watched appreciatively as her buttocks swayed, before Gene shook his head, clearing his throat and clapping his hands together.

"Right fella's, you 'eard the plonk, let's find something psychiatrically brilliant so we can all go home and tell our Mummy's we love 'em!"

---

It took them over an hour to find anything, with Alex insisting that they empty every single box and carefully examine the full contents; Gene didn't dare to argue, having seen the look in her eyes, and simply set the others to work and began rooting around on the shelves for anything of interest. It was by complete accident, having caught his foot in a thin layer of tarpaulin which had been strewn across the floor, that he came across a small pile of partially blackened belongings, hidden slightly beneath the shelves, bending down and looking briefly across to Alex, who was digging through a box of screws as though they could hold the answer to all of life's questions. He barely concealed a grin, then knelt down and reached for the pile, brushing off the burnt edges of a florally decorated, slightly damp, waterproof purse, which he opened, to find the contents of a few pennies, a photograph from a passport booth, and a small folded receipt, on the back of which was scribbled a phone number. Gene frowned, looking at the photo; it was definitely the same girl and, from the photo, he could see the small lump of bone that had caused her disfigurement. The other person was a boy, scrawny-looking, with glasses, acne, floppy hair and braces. He had to admit, that without her disease, she would have been the sort of girl Gene could imagine bending over backwards and stumbling over his words to impress in his youth, but the horrific growth made it difficult to look at her face for too long without feeling uncomfortable and guilty. Her eyes were blue, he noted, and though the purple bags underneath her eyes were still prominent within the photo, they were less so than he had seen them that afternoon. It was torn, as though there had been another photo on the string previously, with a tear slightly ruining the bottom end of the picture, in which it could be faintly noted that the two were holding hands. Turning the photo over, he found a small note scrawled in the same hand as the phone number;

_To my lovely Rosa _

The rest of the message was torn away with the other end of the photo string. Placing the belongings back in the purse, he rooted through the slightly damp ash and found a thin silver chain, at the bottom of which dangled a heart-shaped pendant.

"Bols," he called, standing up after briefly running his fingers through the rest of the ash and finding nothing but for a few singed corners of paper. "Found 'er. Take a look at this." He handed her the purse, which she opened, and just as her eyes fell on the photograph, he could see tears well up in her eyes, and heard the slight sniffle that escaped her. He shifted uncomfortably, digging both hands, one of which still clasped the necklace, into his pockets as he looked away. When her sniffling continued, he gruffly muttered, quietly so that if Ray and Chris decided to approach they wouldn't hear, "Bols, I don't wanna break with tradition 'ere, but if you keep sniffling like that, 'm gunna have to be a sympathetic ear... and I really don't think either of us need the Gene Genie as an Agony Aunt right now..."

Alex managed a watery smile, nodding and turning it over to see the writing on the back. "Rosa..." she murmured, she nearly sobbed again as she continued, "that's such a lovely name..."

Gene cringed, awkwardly reaching out to pat her shoulder and looking away as he did so. She did laugh at that, pushing his hand lightly away, to mixed feelings from Gene himself; he didn't like crying women, but he didn't mind looking after them... sometimes... maybe not in the middle of a warehouse at the centre of a criminal investigation, but still...

"'t's alright I s'pose," he conceded, pulling the necklace from his pocket and holding it out to her. "Found that, too."

Alex nodded, not taking it, and looking at the receipt. "Right. Come on. We've got what we came for and..."

"Guv," Ray called, walking over to them at a brisk pace, "you migh' wanna see this..." he looked at Alex doubtfully. "Maybe not you though," and though it sounded like a brush off, Gene heard the concern and worry in his voice, nodding to Ray to lead the way and looking briefly towards Alex. She looked pale, as though she already knew what Ray had found, but when Gene moved, she didn't follow; he hoped she had nothing to worry about, but the nauseous feeling in his stomach told him he should be worried, too.

---

At first, he didn't even notice; it was just a black everyday bin bag, screwed up in the corner as though it had been filled halfway and then forgotten. Then Ray reached for it, held it open and held it towards Gene, who, noting the disgusted look on Rays face, nearly didn't look at all. Then, with a horrible nauseous feeling rising in his stomach and chest, he bent over the bag to peer in, then swallowed back a reflex gag.

"Bollucks," he growled, pulling back and closing his eyes as though it would block out the image; it didn't. The vision of fleshy, haphazardly cut chunks swam before his mind's eye, and he could feel the sick in his throat, taste it on his tongue... he swallowed it down, opening his eyes again, but the image was burnt into his irises... it was bloody, completely red, with the contours of muscle visible, a fleshy texture that reminded Gene of strings, twined together... gulping back his vomit again, he looked at Ray, and Chris, stood behind him by a few metres, both pale in the face and looking as ill as he felt. "We'll get it to forensics," he said in a dry, throaty voice, feeling sick. "Put the whole lot in a bag and seal it..." he pressed two fingers into his eyeballs as though to scour the image from his mind, then, without moving, said, "an' don't let DI Drake see it."

"Right Guv," Ray conceded. "An' Guv... we got the weapon too... it's over there..."

Gene had to open his eyes then, following the line of Ray's finger to the same corner the bag had been placed in. He didn't know what he'd expected; a butchers cleaver? A samurai blade? Instead, as he walked forwards, he found a small vegetable knife, insignificantly small in comparison to the heinous crime it had been the perpetrator of. The black plastic hilt looked as though it had been caught in a fire at some point, with small plastic bubbles having been formed at the bottom, almost as if someone had pulled it out after only a second of it being able to make contact with the flames. It was so small, so pathetic in comparison to all the horrors his mind had dredged up, he almost wanted to break it and claim it as false evidence. But there was blood on the blade, glistening dark crimson that had dripped impossibly little on the floor. "Bag it." He said gruffly. "An' don't touch it. I'm baggin' this bastard on prints, so if either of you nancy-boys get your grubby paws on it, I'll wring yer necks."

---

Alex had hardly moved when he got back to her; she was still looking at the purses contents as though her life depended on it, fingers tracing the scrawled number and note as if it might jump out from the page and solve the investigation all by itself. "Come on Bols, let's bag it up and get back, 'ey?"

Alex nodded, looking at him in fearful query. "What was it?" She managed in a small voice.

Gene gulped, wondering what to tell her, and opting for a half-truth, though he was sure she saw right through it. "Weapon," he said gruffly, pulling a bag from his pockets and holding it out to her. "Shouldn' really 'ave put me 'ands all over it... bag it up, Bollykecks, then we can get pissed."

---

It was seven by the time they were back at the office, and Gene refused to let Alex stay, practically shoving her out the door and escorting her into Luigi's, having safely locked the purse into the evidence room, with the bag and knife sent to forensics for analysis. Alex insisted she had to stay, should phone the number and find out who it was... but Gene could see the ghosts in her eyes, the fear, the terror, the haunted look that said she needed to drink and forget all about it, because if she looked at another piece of evidence related to that case, she was going to breakdown. So he pushed her away, brought her three rounds of drinks at once, and sat down with her and began asking lewd questions to distract her. It nearly worked, in fact, had he not had to get up to get more drinks after forty-five minutes – a sure sign she was depressed as it usually took her half an hour to down one- he thought it might have worked all evening.

But, as he returned with another two rounds each, a beer and a whiskey for himself and a wine and a vodka for her, he found her with a far off look in her eyes, and tears streaming down her cheeks. With a gulp, he sat down, leaning forwards to speak to her and muttering conspiratorially, "I reckon Ray's a masochist, Bolly, what'd you think?"

She didn't even appear to register what he'd said, though she did respond to the sound of his voice by whispering, meeting his gaze with glistening brown eyes. "How could one person be dealt so much _shit_, Gene?"

He was shocked to hear her swear; she rarely did, and when it happened, she was usually angry and pissed off and he could deal with it by snapping back at her. Now though, she was broken, looked like an empty shell ... and how did he cope with that? He couldn't do heartfelt discussions, and he couldn't do comfort, not really... so what did she expect of him?

"We dunno she was, Bols... she might've been 'appy..."

"She killed herself, Gene," she whispered, "and you won't convince me otherwise."

Gene didn't want to discuss it; he'd brought her here to make her forget until morning, when they could deal with it the way they needed to. But he knew he was going to have to if she was going to be put at ease in the slightest. "Someone tried to burn her stuff, Bolly... why'd she do that? We found the weapon, and there was no blood between that and the door, so how'd she get it there without bleeding everywhere?"

He pushed her glass of wine towards her and went on. "I don' wanna think any bastards cold enough to do it any more than you do, Bols... but I don' reckon it was her... couldn't be, not without making more of a mess..."

Alex shook her head, eyes streaming as she reached a shaking hand for her glass. "No... She hated it... I just know, Gene... she wanted out... she was going to die, she was going to have no life at all... she hated herself... and that's what leads to suicide, Gene... self-loathing... Bitterness... Defeat... Low self-esteem..."

Gene sighed, leaning back on his chair and downing half of his beer. "I won' argue with you, Bols, but I don' agree. Tomorrow, we'll find ou' her name, an' go sort some o' this mess out, alrigh'? Til then, maybe yer should just... get some sleep." He stood up, draining his beer and swallowing down his whiskey smoothly, looking at her with a foreign tenderness in his eyes that made her nervous and warm all at once. "Jus' do what I say this time, 'ey?" he teased, "no thatcherite wankers this time around."

And then he was gone, and she was alone, nursing a glass of wine, which was followed by three more, before she stumbled into the flat upstairs, collapsing on the sofa in a drunken state and passing out.

---

At 7am, the phone rang, and she was practically sobbing at the pain in her head as she answered it blearily. Gene's voice drifted down the phone line, sounding hollow and echoed all at once.

"Sorry, Bols, but you need to get down 'ere. We jus' got a missing person reported... it's her."

---

Gene dropped the missing persons report on her desk, twisting it so that she could read the writing without difficulty. Perching himself on the corner of her desk, he said, "names Rosa McKellen. Went t' school at Chestnut Grove. Lived with 'er Mam– 'er that's missin' 'er. Ray an' Chris've gone to bring 'er in an' get ID on the body... Mother's called Amanda, fathers called Jeremy. Dunno the terms of separation, but they don' live together 'nymore."

"And you got all this from the missing persons report?" Alex looked impressed and mistrusting, and Gene smirked. "Friends in 'igh places, Bollinger Knickers. I've got Shaz to look up her old man's address, an' once we've spoken to the mother, we'll go see papa bear." He looked at her for a moment, and then added, in a low whisper, as though the others were nearby.

"Y'alright now, Bols?"

The genuine concern in his eyes caused a pang of warmth in Alex's chest and she nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Just... mothering instinct... it's just not right..."

Gene looked down. "No, Bols, it ain't..." eyes on the missing persons report, he added softly. "You don' talk 'bout yer daughter much... what 'appened there?"

She sighed, standing up and whispering. "Now's not the time, Guv, really..."

He took a deep breath, then nodded. "Yeah... course not... got work to do, right Drake?"

She nodded, eyes stinging as he reverted to using her surname; it was always a sign she'd done something to upset or annoy him if he did that, and it always stung to hear him refer to her as though she were so... Well, common, she supposed. Because Bolly was just her... there wasn't another Bolly... but there were lots of 'Drake's' in the world...

"Course Guv... lots to do..."

There was an awkward silence, in which Alex stood toying with her desk tidy, whilst Gene fiddled with the bottom of his tie, before standing up abruptly. "Right... best get goin' then." And he retreated to his office, tapping his pen on the desk before pouring himself a whiskey and sparking up.

---

Amanda McKellen was tall, blonde, slim-lined and, at one point, had probably been gorgeous. She had the look of a woman who could have broken a man's heart in two, the look of a tease and a player, but underneath it lay a woman whose life had been uprooted by stress and pain beyond imagination, and the shadows of it lay all over her face.

When Alex laid eyes on her, the first thing she noticed was the bright blue of her eyes; they were so like her daughter Rosa's that she nearly looked twice. The blue though, however cool and serene, was tinted with a darkness that echoed years of sadness, and she had developed lines around her eyes that were not suited to a woman her age; Alex's heart flew out to her.

When Gene laid eyes on her, the first thing he noticed was the slouch of her shoulders; had she stood upright, her breasts would probably have been her greatest asset, but hunched as she was, with the weight of grief and pain on her shoulders, it gave her a sense of deformity that seemed somehow greater than that which her daughter had developed, and it gave him a pang of pain to see it.

It was at Alex's suggestion that they drove Rosa's mother back to her house before asking any questions, and though they were both sure that Amanda knew it was for her own comfort reasons, she seemed grateful, and invited them in, offering them tea, which Alex quickly leapt to make, allowing the grieving mother to slump onto the florally decorated sofa and bury her head in her hands. Gene stood awkwardly at first, then sat down on the arm rest at the other end of the sofa, then stood up again. By the time Alex had returned, he'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the mantelpiece, and it was only at Alex's disapproving glare that he finally settled himself into the armchair opposite Amanda, leaving space for Alex to sit on the sofa after having placed the drinks on the coffee table.

"She shouldn't be dead..." Amanda whispered, and Alex and Gene glanced at one another, before looking back to the crumpled figure of a grieving mother. "She had so much life left to live... even with the disease... it's not right... not right... no.... who could... why would anyone want to... to kill her?" Her voice was cracking, and Gene was bordering on uncomfortable again when Alex moved to place an arm tentatively around the other woman's shoulders.

"We're looking into..." Alex was about to mention suicide, but stopped, and Gene was thankful, feeling that the first sentence in the conversation shouldn't question the girls state of mind. "We're looking into it... we're going to do all we can to find out."

Mrs McKellen began to sob, nodding and wiping her eyes on her sleeve, "oh I know, I know... it's just... she had such a hard life... she was... she couldn't... what could she have done to upset anyone?" The grief building in her voice was worse than if she just started to weep, Gene thought, and though she was tenderly dabbing at her eyes, she hadn't really let the tears fall yet, and the stubborn bravery sent chills down his spine.

"That's why we're here, Ma'am," Gene said gruffly, rubbing his arm nervously. "We need to know more about yer daughter... 'bout Rosa... so we can figure out if someone might've wanna hurt her..."

"They wouldn't," Amanda said simply. "She was... she was lovely... oh... so lovely..." she reached out and took her cup in shaking hands, shaking with sobs, but still no tears had streaked down her face...

"Our forensics team said that Rosa was anorexic... did she ever talk to you about that?" Alex's voice was gentle, and Amanda calmed slightly, as though this was a subject she could discuss with more ease.

"Yes... she thought she was fat... and I told her she wasn't but she wouldn't believe me and... it made her _happy_... and I thought... is it _so_ bad for her to behappy? She didn't have _much_ to be happy about, and not long to be happy for... so why should she eat if it would make her angry and sad and... and..." Then the tears came, and it was almost a relief, but Gene felt considerably out of place as Alex gathered the crying mother in her arms and rocked her like a young child, shushing her and gently stroking her hair.

"I'm a bad... bad... bad mother..." Amanda sobbed. "I should have made her eat something... I know I should have... but when she ate she was... she was..." she cried harder, then managed to gasp out, "she was horrible... angry... violent... ill... she was awful... I'm a bad mother..."

"No, no you're not," Alex soothed, because as much as she thought that Amanda should have made Rosa eat, she knew from experience how difficult anorexia sufferers could be, how stubborn... and then there was the mothering part of her, that heard the part of 'wanting her to be happy' and practically flew out to her. "Shush now... you're not a bad mother..."

"I called her awful..." Amanda said softly, and fear and disgust contorted on her face, and then grief overcame her again as she repeated over and over, "I'm a bad mother... I'm awful... a bad... bad mother..."

---

It took Alex a good hour to calm Amanda down, by which time Gene had finished his cup of tea, polished off half a plate of garibaldi's, and taken himself on a tour of the living room, examining each photograph with scrutiny, eyes drawn to one in particular, of Rosa, the boy from her wallet photo, and a weather-beaten man wearing tweed trousers and an anorak. When eventually Amanda had calmed down, he took the photo over and sat himself down, listening to Alex, and wanting to thump her.

"Mrs McKellen... we're also looking into the possibility that this was a suicide... do you think that's at all a possibility or do you..?"

"My daughter would never have killed herself, DI Drake!" And Gene watched as Amanda pulled from Alex's comforting hold and stood up, shockingly independent and able to stand when provided with the right fuel. "Now if that's all, I'd ask you to leave me alone and let me grieve for my daughter!"

"Yes love," Gene said before Alex could argue, "but first..." he held the photo up and pointed to both males, "could you tell us the names of these men?"

"The boys Benji Bragden; he's Rosa's boyfriend. The man's her godfather; Joe Ellison." She looked confused. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason... just wondered. Were they close?"

"If there's no reason, I see no point in answering that question..."

Alex and Gene exchanged looks before nodding. "Thanks love, and... we're _very_ sorry." He gave Alex a steely look that got across quite evidently that their sympathy was not merely for her loss.

"I understand, Mr Hunt. It's your job. But trust me when I say I knew Rosa, and she would never, ever lower herself to suicide..." Amanda turned away, wiping at her eyes. "Now if you please, I'd like to be left alone."

---

"Right Bols," Gene said as they walked down the path to the Quattro. "Looks like we've got our first two suspects; boyfriend, and godfather." He turned the key in the ignition as they slid in, revving the engine briefly before pulling away from the house.

Alex didn't mention suicide the whole way back.

---


	3. Joe Ellison

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

---

He didn't want to take her back to the scene of the crime; he knew the warehouse, the pavement, the river and all it represented would shake and upset her as much as it had before... but going back to the station would waste precious time, in which Joe Ellison might decide being around here was too dangerous, and run away... so he pulled up next to the river once more, watching as Alex got out of the car and walking beside her towards the river's edge, looking out to the small wooden boat and waiting patiently. Within ten minutes, it was mooring at the side, and Joe Ellison, still in his tweed jacket and anorak, as though he never wore anything else, stepped out onto the concrete pavement to look at them.

Gene had taken him the day before as having been weathered by his line of work and the days he spent on the water. Today, he looked less weather-worn and more tired and beaten, as though there were weights dragging down on the lids of her eyes, causing swelling and puffiness that was tinted with a crude purple colour. He almost felt sympathetic, but there was a coldness in his stomach that warned him the man before them had mislead police in a murder investigation and was not to be trusted.

"Mister Ellison, right?" Gene said gruffly, flashing his police badge.

"Yes... yes... yes... no... what've I done? Didn't do anything..." He was wringing his hands, eyes averted, darting to and fro like yo-yos. His brow was becoming increasingly shiny, reflecting the cool morning sun in the glimmer of his sweat as he stood there, alternately scratching his arms and running his hands through his hair, before reverting back to the twisting and wringing of his fingers. Gene stepped forwards and grabbed him roughly by the arm.

"Your scummy little arse is goin' back to the station, an' you're givin' me answers before I twist your scrawny little head from your neck, you got that?" His voice was low and menacing, growled directly into the other mans ears. Gene saw, out of the corner of his eye, the disapproval in Alex's gaze, but for once, he wasn't sure whether it was intended for him or not.

"I didn' do anything!" Ellison's voice was panicked and high, his eyes wide and fearful as Gene fiercely twisted his arms behind his back, shoving him towards the car.

"Get any of the muck on your boots in my car and I won't just do you for false evidence, I'll 'ave you done for maltreatment of police property!" He cuffed his wrists behind him, and then shoved him forcefully, pressing down on his neck, into the backseat, eyes flashing angrily as he returned to the driving side, waiting for Alex, who was slowly and timidly walking back to the car, to join them, before turning the ignition on. He didn't say anything as she strapped herself in -something he'd given up telling her not to bother with- but the look they exchanged was significant enough. Under pretence of putting his arm across the back of her seat as he reversed, he gave her far shoulder a brief squeeze, then pulled his arm back and sped them to the station.

---

It was eleven o'clock in the morning on a Thursday, but CID was buzzing with activity as Gene, not all too kindly, dragged Ellison towards the interview room and practically threw him into the seat, getting right in his face, hands gripping each of Ellison's shoulders hard as he hissed at him, "tell me about yesterday morning you piece of scum, and don't you _dare_ lie to me again!"

Ellison was shaking his head, "Don't know... I don't know... promise!"

"Then tell me the name of the girl you pulled out of that river you lying piece of shit!" His hands tightened on the scruff of the anorak, yanking the man forwards so that Gene's breath wafted into his face. From the other side of the room, Alex saw the fear in Ellison's eyes, but her usual empathy, her normal wish to see Gene restrain himself, was washed away as she thought about the body of the girl that now lay on a cold slab... because even if Ellison wasn't responsible, he knew her, and he'd lied, and the rational part of her mind had abdicated in favour of the unjustified, brash violence that Gene so often used to vent his emotion...

"Found her... got her out... didn' look... didn' wanna look!" His voice was weak, and his eyes, though trying to stay firmly fixed on Gene's, were flickering nervously back and forward.

"So it'll come as a surprise to you then, will it, that the girl you pulled out o' the Thames was Rosa McKellen, you're own bloody goddaughter?" The venom in Gene's voice was unmistakeable, and spit flew from his mouth onto Ellison's face, causing the already quivering suspect to flinch and shy away. With a sharp tug, Gene had pulled Ellison to his feet by the scruff of his neck so that his feet were barely touching the floor, before shaking him thoroughly. "That new to you, is it, Ellison?" he hissed.

"Didn' know 'er..." Ellison said weakly, voice shaken and lip quivering as Gene tightened his grip on her neck.

"You're a bloody liar, Ellison!" He hissed. "If you didn' know her, why's there a picture of you, Benji Bragden and Rosa McKellen on her mother's mantelpiece?"

When the other man didn't respond, Gene threw him back into his seat, pulling back a fist and bringing it to the other mans cheek in a vicious right-hook. After a silence of two seconds, he delivered another thump, and then pulled him up high enough to bring his knee into Ellison's stomach, causing the older man to gasp in pain, spluttering and spitting as he collapsed in a heap. Gene was preparing to deliver another kick when Alex appeared at his side, placing a delicate hand on his arm and squeezing briefly. "Leave him now, Guv... sit down, and we'll talk to him." She didn't let go of him until he'd looked repeatedly from her to Ellison, then, after a moment of indecision, lowered his arm, walking round to the table and sitting heavily down in his chair, hitting the button on the tape recorder with a violent finger, causing Alex to jump as it practically leapt up in the air. He nodded at Alex to talk, looking at Ellison with unmistakeable disgust and loathing, inwardly pleased to see the split in the man's lip as a result of his right hook.

"Interview with Joe Ellison, on the twenty-fourth of April, nineteen-eighty-two. Present are DI Drake, and DCI Hunt." She slipped into the seat beside Gene, leaning forward with her hands linked and surveying Ellison with a controlled mask of disinterest, though Gene could tell, from the whiteness of her knuckles, that she was withholding the same torrent of hatred and disgust that he himself had just partially vented.

"Is your name Joe Ellison?" She asked calmly, and Gene resisted voicing a snort of disgust. When Ellison nodded, Alex went on. "Are you over forty years of age?"

Looking confused, Ellison muttered in response, "Yes."

"Are you married?"

Another frown of confused thoughtfulness, then a soft, "No."

"Do you have any children?"

Still he frowned, but answered, "No."

"Do you enjoy fishing?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever had an operation?"

"Yes."

"Did you finish school when you were younger?"

"No."

"Have you always lived in London?"

"Yes."

"Do you like maths?"

"No... no..."

They went on and on, simple yes/no questions that made Gene want to yawn and question the relevance of, but he let her work, lighting up a cigarette and blowing the smoke in Ellison's crinkled face without remorse. Occasionally, he would repeat his answer two or three times, and Gene would resist the urge to swat the man around the head. Soon, though, he began to answer without hesitation, quickly replying, instinctive almost, and, eventually, they came to an end, and Gene could feel Alex tensing slightly beside him as she approached the final question.

"Have you ever consumed alcohol?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever smoked?"

"No!"

"Did you know Rosa McKellen?"

"Yes..."

The room fell silent as he opened and closed his mouth, searching for a way to reply, for a retort that would cover his tracks... Gene ground his jaw angrily, cracking his knuckles menacingly as Alex sat back with a heavy breath, closing her eyes briefly before talking again.

"Why did you tell us you didn't know the identity of the body?" She asked.

"I'll tell you why, Bols; because he's a lying, sick, murderous _bastard_!" Gene's voice was practically crackling with electric anger, his cold tone causing the hairs on the back of Alex's neck to stand up. He did, however, remain seated, and though Alex didn't ask questions as to why, she was thankful for it.

"Mr Ellison, would you please answer the question?" Her voice was soft, though tinted with a slight malice that Gene found strangely endearing.

Ellison shifted in his seat, then muttered, "no... no... no..."

Alex couldn't stop Gene launching across the table then, and by the time she'd been able to react, he was dragging Ellison over the desk and slamming him up against the nearest wall in another wave of aggression. "You bloody answer the question before I string you up to the lights by your bollucks!"

The flash in Gene's eyes was unmistakeable, and Ellison caved, shrinking back as though trying to sink into the wall as he sobbed, "I couldn't tell... I didn't know... her face was covered in blood!"

"You pulled her out of a river you brainless little shite! I'm sure your tiny, useless excuse for a brain couldn't comprehend it, but the wonder of water, you great piece of piss, is that it washes dirt and blood off!" Spit was flying from his lip again, and Alex watched nervously as Gene shook him once more, bringing Ellison closer so that they were nearly nose-to-nose. "So are you telling me, that even when her face was clean, you couldn't tell it was your bleeding goddaughter?"

Ellison's face was fearful and terrified, and his words stumbled and tripped off his tongue, "Yes... I mean no... maybe... no... yes... dunno... couldn' tell... didn' look.... didn' wanna... couldn' say... yes... no... maybe..."

Gene was bristling, and slammed him achingly into the wall once again. "You better get your tongue around those words you little prat, or I'll make good on my threat and string you up to the ceiling and let the whole of my team loose on you! And when they're done, I'll throw you in a cell with a bunch of nancy fairies, and let them have a cop o' your scrawny little arse! Maybe that'll loosen your lying tongue!" He practically threw him to the ground, visibly quaking with fury as Ellison continuously sobbed and shook his head.

"Couldn' tell... couldn' say... didn' look... wouldn' look... didn' wanna know..." His hands were flexing, fidgeting and wringing each other repeatedly. His eyes were still darting around in every direction, and the muscle in his jaw was twitching nervously. Alex could see Gene's impatience rising, and, walking towards him she spoke to him quietly.

"Give me ten minutes with him, Guv," her voice was so soft that Gene had to strain his ears to hear her. "I'll find out what he knows, and then maybe we'll get somewhere..."

Ellison remained apparently oblivious to them as Gene shifted his body to the left slightly, not moving his eyes but speaking directly to Alex. "He's scum, Bols. You think I'm leaving you alone with the murdering little shit?"

"I've been alone with worse, Guv." She turned her back on Ellison and murmured, "You can stand outside if you want, but don't do anything unless I want you to. Ok?"

Gene looked thoughtful and assessing, and then gave a barely perceptible nod. "Who's in charge 'ere Bols..?" with a reluctant sigh, he added, "Fine. Work your psychtwattery wonders, Bollykecks, but if he moves a muscle I'll bash him to an inch of 'is life. Understood?"

"I can handle it, Gene," she said, turning to look at Ellison and, after a ragged inhalation of breath, gently pulling him to his feet and placing him in his chair. Gene watched, seeing the restraint in Alex's posture as she tried to stop herself exacting her own, probably more painful punishment on the other man.

"I'm outside, Bolly," he muttered, walking out with one last withering look in Ellison's direction, slamming the door on the way.

---

"Tell me about Rosa," Alex said softly, imploringly, once they were both sat down, Ellison still quaking with nerves and fidgeting restlessly.

"Can't..." Ellison said dumbly. "Can't... Can't..."

"Yes you can," Alex said calmly, "just tell me what you knew about her... what was she like?"

"Pretty. And ugly..." he was shaking, eyes full of fear and wonderment and vulnerability as Alex watched him. "Clever... very clever... clever... stupid... very stupid..." He spoke as though he were holding both sides of a conversation, arguing with himself...

"Why was she stupid?" Alex asked, hands held gently out in front of her. "Did she do something?"

"Maths... liked maths... good at maths... not science... Hated science... didn't listen... never listened... silly girl... stupid girl..." A small smile spread over his weathered face, and though it wasn't even slightly malicious, it sent shivers down her spine. "She liked me... liked me... godfather... liked me... always liked me." He looked up, as though to meet Alex's eyes, but the second she made the contact, he averted his eyes, shivering and shaking. "Pretty... pretty... pretty..."

"Mister Ellison, why do you think Rosa was stupid?"

"Fire. Fire. Fire."

"What fire?" Alex asked, cogs turning in her brain as she surveyed his strange behaviour. He was miming an action with his thumb, and looking out to Gene, who was flicking his lighter on and off, her mind clicked. "Did Rosa smoke?"

"Yes... yes... once... only once..." He looked around nervously, then buried his face in his hands, muttering to himself, "Aberdeen, abdomen, action, adaptation, adipose fin, aggregation, alkalinity, alevin, algae..." the list went on, and it took Alex a long while to make the connection, "coontail, cosmic clock, countdown method, cove..."

"Mister Ellison, are you talking about fishing?" She asked tentatively.

He nodded vigorously, then went back to his recital, on and on it went, and Alex could see Gene checking his watch outside...

"...Mylar strips, Mylar thread, nares, native, natural..."

Still he carried on, until, eventually, he petered out with a soft, "year class, yolk sac, zinger, zooplankton..."And then he looked up, eyes softer, but still unable to meet Alex's. "Rosa?"

"Mister Ellison, why did you misinform my colleague about Rosa's identity?"

"Told not to... asked not to... couldn'... shouldn'... not allowed... shouldn' tell... didn'... won'.... home... wanna go 'ome..."

---

"He's not the killer Gene," Alex said, stepping outside of the interview room and meeting his blue eyes, just as Ellison began to rock back and forth on his desk. "He's autistic, possibly schizophrenic too... he said she smoked once... he called her stupid because of it, but I don't think he'll say anymore." She looked at the pitiful man inside the room and sighed as Gene began his predictable onslaught.

"I don' care whether he's the Queen of England! He's bloody mislead police in a murder investigation, and he's a key suspect!"

"Based on what?" Alex snapped back. "Are his prints on the knife? Have we got any proof he saw her alive beforehand? He was told not to say who she was! He doesn't understand! You can't just push aside the fact he's got a problem and..."

"He's a lying scumbag and he's playin' you like a fool!" Gene hissed. "He wasn't bloody ortismatic-"

"Autistic!" Alex hissed.

"AUTISTIC then! He wasn't bloody autistic yesterday!"

"He's psychologically ill! He's got a split personality! He doesn't know what's right and wrong! You can't possibly believe that he actually killed her?" Her voice was rising, becoming more defensive as she threw her arms out for emphasis, pointing at the man in the room in front of them.

"I bloody can Bols, and until I know for gods-damned certain that he didn', he's stayin' in the cells, no matter how much you argue with me!" He glared down at her, daring her to protest, and Alex gritted her teeth before stepping closer to him and meeting his eyes coldly.

"You're making a big mistake, Guv," she told him softly. "He is ill, and more of a danger to himself than he could be to anyone else!"

"Well isn't that just fandabbydozey?" Gene growled harshly. "If you're so certain he's cuckoo, Drake, why don't you get your psych-twat-ological, posh-knickered, tarty friends to come along in white coats and lock him up? Because as long as his shitty little face doesn't show up on my patch again, I couldn't give a posh-mans bollucks what happens to him!" He gave her a hard, blazing look of annoyance and fury, then turned on his heel and stormed off down the corridor.

----

Alex didn't exchange words with Gene until much later in the afternoon, after having settled Ellison into the cells in a much more kindly fashion than she would have thought possible, given the earlier circumstances of the day. She'd asked him several more questions, trying to find out more about his relationship with Rosa, but when it became apparent he was in too much of a state to provide a decent answer, she left the cell, settling herself at her desk and thinking over all the information they had on Rosa McKellen... it wasn't much, and as she compiled a small list in order to begin creating a profile, she was drawn back to her earlier conclusion that it was suicide; despite the evidence, and the testament of Amanda, she couldn't help but think that this was a girl whose life was so overrun with terror and horrors, that she would have wanted to disappear. It was only then that she decided to venture into Gene's office, eyes hard as she took him in, bent over a notepad and scribbling at something. When Alex coughed, he quickly pulled it back towards him, flipping the cover over the paper and settling his eyes on her, distaste mirrored in his expression as he surveyed her calm exterior.

He could sense she was going to start up on something again, something about Ellison and the fact he needed hypnotism, or whatever the hell it was they did with nut jobs these days... and though he cursed it, when she opened her gob and starting talking about suicide again, he wished she'd turn the hypnosis on him and make him forget all the pish-posh-tosh that was falling out of her mouth.

"It's suicide, Guv," she said determinedly. "I can _feel_ it! She killed herself; she's anorexic, she's terminally ill, her parents aren't together..."

"You seem to be repeating every piece of bollucks you've thrown at me in the last twenty-four hours, Drake, and I don't need it! You're _feelings_ can go take a running jump; I am not sitting here and listening to your psychiatry bullshit, talking about how bloody depressed she was! She had a boyfriend, she was smart, she had mates at school and she had a damn-good mother! Now you tell me, why the hell would she want to top herself with that list?"

Alex shrugged. "Aside from the fact she was developing an increasingly more hideous disfigurement by the day, and the fact that even men like you, who've seen horrors worse than most, shied away from her picture because of it... well, aside from that, I don't know what it could be!" Sarcasm dripped from her words, but after several moments she added, more calmly and rationally, "but I can imagine Benji Bragden might." She pushed the receipt from the evidence room across the table. "Call him."

Gene rolled his eyes. "I can find out where he lives and what his number is alot easier than that you daft tart! I've got a perfectly good set of files that tell me where every nancy-bending-fairy poofter lives, and what their number is, which don't require me putting myself out."

"Fine." Alex said. "I'll do it myself." She strode around his desk, picked up the receiver on the phone and, after a few glances at the number, typed it in quickly and efficiently. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the wall, avoiding Gene, who watched with irritation, his toe tapping impatiently as she stood there, phone to her ear.

"Hello? Hello, yes, my names Alex Drake... is it possible to speak to Benji Bragden?" She'd put on a posh-er voice than normal, Gene thought, and it made her sound even more like she'd got a snooker cue up her arse... it was oddly attractive.

"Oh..." Alex said, and Gene's eyebrows rose in inquisitive curiosity as Alex flushed red. "No... no that's quite fine...no... no thank you... thank you... goodbye." Gene's lip twitched as she dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

"What psychiatric, wondrous enlightenments do you have for me then, Bols?" It wasn't lost on Alex that he'd reverted back to her nickname now that he thought she'd made a mistake, and she took a mental note to remind herself to ignore him at Luigi's that night. "Is he a fairy with a small wand? A plonk dressed as a fella 'cause she's too scared to join the Gay Pride Parade?"

"It's 'march' not 'parade'," Alex muttered, eyes downcast as she continued to flush. "And no... He's not."

Unable to resist a further dig, Gene smirked, "so, what did you learn from your short-lived excursion?"

Beet red and embarrassed, Alex muttered. "It's the number for an Indian take-away. It's not him." Her jaw was clenched, and she closed her eyes against the delighted snort that left Gene's throat.

"Best thing you've said all week, Bols," Gene grinned, digging under a pile of papers on his desk and retrieving a scrap of paper, on which were written Benji Bragden's name, address and telephone number. "Got it all 'here, Bollykecks... but at least you saved me ringin' up tomorrow." He stood up, glancing at the watch with a smirk. "Beer o'clock, Bolly; you buy me a whiskey and I won' tell the others."

----

It was three o'clock in the morning.

The streets outside were dark and yet Alex wasn't asleep; every light was on as she huddled on her sofa, shaking and shivering, looking straight ahead, terrified of the image that had ingrained itself onto her mind's eye, glowing vividly as she tried to breathe, hands clasped tight around her knees as she rocked back and forth, back and forth... Tears were falling heavily down her cheeks, making her mascara and foundation run over the rest of her face. Her chest was tight, her head was spinning, and she was frozen in her mindset, couldn't shake it away...

She knew it wasn't real.

She knew it wasn't happening.

If she should be scared of anything it shouldn't be the image itself, but the fact she was falling prey to it... she knew it wasn't real...

She knew it wasn't real, and yet the image of Molly in the place of Rosa McKellen, cold on the forensics slab with chunks of skin hacked away and meticulously cleaned, was utterly terrifying, and she couldn't chase it away.

----

The phone rang out in the darkness, a heavy hand reaching out to grab it, accompanied by a gruff emission of expletives as it was lifted to his head.

"What?" He grunted, voice slightly muffled and agitated as he buried his face in the pillow.

"Gene?" A timid, scared voice replied, and though he'd never really heard it before, he knew it straight away.

"Bols..." He said, sitting up straight and letting his sheets fall down to his waist, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's up?"

"Gene," she whispered again, "I'm scared."

----

**Next update may be a few days or so; I've got a load of work, and the fella just got back from Uni, so I'll get back onto this as soon as things have all calmed down. **

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**Thank you**

**Mage of the Heart**


	4. Comfort And Fear

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

---

Within ten minutes he was knocking on her door, hair scruffy and clothes dishevelled, his eyes heavy with sleep and voice slightly croaky. She answered, wearing a loose-hanging red dressing-gown, which she'd thrown over a big t-shirt that hung to mid-thigh and lead down to long, perfectly toned legs. He blinked, unwittingly distracted, then met her eyes; her make-up was blotchy, her eyes were puffy, and her hair looked as though she'd been running her fingers repeatedly through it for hours. There was a moment of awkwardness, in which Gene stood, hands in the pockets of his day-off jeans, long-sleeved Rugby shirt pulled down over his wrists, Adams-apple rising and falling as he looked at her, thoroughly lost for things to say. She was staring at him intently, as though searching for something... and then, whatever it was, it seemed to arrive, seemed to arrive in the form of a loud, gut wrenching sob that practically projected her against his chest, her arms going around his neck, her body pressed flush to his.

Gene froze, hands still in his pockets, Alex sobbing -with apparent lack of shame- onto his white rugby shirt, and he could practically feel the make-up staining it, and all he would allow himself to think was how difficult it would be to wash, because the feeling of her body so close to his was almost unbearably blissful, and the worst thing he could do at that moment would be to act on that feeling of contentment... But even though he tried to concentrate on the fact that her mascara would be making black splodges on his shirt, he couldn't fight the feeling that he should envelop her in his arms and bury his face in her hair...

"I'm scared, Gene..." she sobbed, "I'm scared..."

And that was all it took.

He carefully –and with some difficulty, given her precariously close flush against his body- dislodged his hands from his pockets, moving to put them around her...

But where did he put his hands? The only woman he hugged in a non-sexual way was his Mam, and that rarely lasted longer than a few seconds, and though he always felt that he should keep his hands to the top end of her back, he was stupidly uncomfortable if his fingers touched the outline of her bra... but this wasn't a quick hug, and it wasn't sexual, despite the way Alex was holding herself against him, to the point she was so close he could feel her heart pounding against his chest... So where did he put his hands? Too low, she'd think he was copping a feel in her hour of need, too high and it'd become that uncomfortable bra-strap scenario once again... was she even wearing a bra under that t-shirt? Oh Jesus, he thought, hands moving in the air and pausing over different areas of her back as he deliberated over where to put them...

In the end, he opted neither for the lower or higher end of her back, instead wrapping his arms so tightly around her that she was completely enveloped in his hold, his chin resting on her head, one hand rubbing circles on her side, while the other gently stroked her opposite shoulder. There; he'd managed to somehow avoid both her arse and her bra, and it hadn't even compromised the intimacy of the moment... in fact, unless he was imagining things, she was clinging to him tighter, body racked with sobs, one hand gently rubbing the back of his neck, seeking solace and reassurance from the gentle fuzz of hair growth. He sighed, breathing into her hair and continuing to gently soothe her through his actions, trying to ignore the stirring feeling in his groin that was responding to her own soft touch...

"'t's alright, Bols... It's alright..." He looked up at the ceiling as her other hand scrunched his shirt in her grip, nails tickling over his skin and forcing him to shiver.

"You...you're... c... cold," Alex managed through her sobs.

Gene thought about denying it, but the growing sensation of arousal was becoming dangerously noticeable, so he nodded. "Yeah... 'ow 'bout we go inside an' I make us a brew?"

Giving another shaking sob, Alex nodded, pulling back considerably, meeting his blue eyes with her own glistening brown ones. He gave her a small quirk of the lips, and then nodded to the flat. "Let's get you in, 'ey?"

"Bet you say that to all the girls," Alex sniffed, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her dressing gown, though one hand remained on his shoulder, gently scrunching and un-scrunching the fabric between her fingers. Gene let his own hands fall from her waist, smirking ever so slightly.

"Only the damsels, Bols," he said, moving to gently grasp her shoulders and turn her around into the flat, steering her towards the sofa without removing his hands. "Si' down, an' I'll fix you a cuppa..." then he stopped, blinking. "'Ow'd you 'ave it?" It struck him, suddenly, that he hadn't actually made her a cup of tea in the whole of the time he'd worked with her... he generally sat in the kitchen while she made hers, munching on a garibaldi and admiring the view of her behind...

"Quite dark... one sugar..." she settled onto the sofa, still swiping at her nose and eyes with her sleeve. "The... the tea and sugar are above the sink... and..."

"I'll find the milk, Bols," he said gruffly. "I'm a bloody detective, aren't I?"

Alex smiled through her tears and nodded. "Yes, Guv."

---

When he returned, carrying two steaming cups in his hands, he found her rocking back and forth on the sofa, eyes staring into space as she swayed. He placed the cups before her on the coffee table, moving around the flat and turning off the lights to the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom, flicking the table lamp on and dulling the main light so the room was more dim. She started to shake, panic setting in as her eyes darted in every direction...

The fear was rising in her throat, gripping at her lungs and clawing at the back of her mouth like nausea. She looked, but barely noticed anything, eyes flashing round the whole room without reason... and then he'd knelt in front of her, his stern blue eyes calming her down almost instantaneously, and though the fear remained, the blind panic dimmed away.

"It's just the lights, Bolly; nothing scary 'bout a light." Her fingers were clenching and unclenching on her bare legs, looking painful, tense, and without really thinking, he caught one hand in his, only really considering the action after she'd squeezed his palm almost painfully in reciprocation. With a stifled sob, she moved her spare hand to tentatively pat the seat beside her, eyes never leaving his, asking a silent, pleading question...

He didn't say anything, simply lifting himself up from on his knees and sitting down slowly as she curled her legs out from beneath her, placing them on the floor. She looked uncomfortable and rigid and, one hand still in hers, he shifted slightly closer, placing a gentle arm around her shoulders. She barely seemed to register it at all, and he wanted desperately to withdraw his arm to stop the complete feeling of uselessness that swept over him. But he couldn't, could he? So instead he sat, for what felt like forever, as she remained stock still in the crook of his arm... eventually, he squeezed her hand tighter in his, speaking gently. "Best drink your tea, Bols, gunna get cold..."

There was a long, stretched silence, and then she whispered, after several moments, "cold..." The word hung in the air like a noose dangling before his eyes, and he could see that, somehow, he'd managed to trip over his tongue and say the wrong thing, but he still didn't know how or why... gods, he barely knew why he was here, didn't know why he'd jumped out of bed so willingly, arrived so imminently... He didn't understand the reasons behind his actions, and he didn't know why they were required... so what exactly was he doing here?

"Molly..." she murmured, and his head turned towards her slowly, feeling her hands clam up with sweat in his. "Cold..." And then the tears began again, not as harsh and violent and body-racking as before, and somehow the gentle, silent trickle of the small tears down her cheeks was worse. "My little Molly..." Her eyes were fixated on the table as though something were lying there, staring her in the face, and Gene did the only thing he could think of; he pulled his hand from hers, reaching to cup her face and twisting it to face him.

"Nothin' to look at, Bollykecks..." but her eyes were darting to the left, still fixed on the coffee table as though she couldn't be drawn away from it. Gene moved his hand into her line of sight, blocking out the table completely and whispering. "What's got into you, Bols?" His voice was gruff, but she couldn't deny the concern and worry that breached his tone, putting a strange edge to it that made her momentarily stare into those blue orbs, seeking reassurance in the depths of his eyes, in the flecks of gold that speckled his iris...

"Molly..." she whispered, and suddenly she cracked again, collapsing forwards onto his chest, tears falling like waterfalls as she wept again onto the fabric of his shirt. He closed his eyes briefly, and then dropped the arm which had been resting along the back of the sofa, draped calmly over her shoulders, to hold her gently, leaving his other hand across her face, blocking the view of the table and tentatively caressing the slight contours of her face as she buried her nose in his clothes, fingers clutching at him painfully. Trying not to let out a hiss of pain, he ran his finger over her face continuously, memorising it to the touch without thought... he took in the gentle dip at the corner of her eye, the slight ridge of her cheekbone and the slight slant as his fingers traced down across her cheeks, to the slightly sharper corner of her chin... Her breathing was slowing down, though still ragged and heavy, but they were becoming more regular, less sharp intakes of air, and slowly, very gradually, she stilled, holding onto him, not as desperately as before, but still with a clear desire for physical contact... After a while, his back began to hurt from sitting without a rest, and, instead of sitting back and making them both uncomfortable, he gently hooked his arms under her legs, pulling her close against his chest and settling her in his lap, reclining slowly on the sofa until his head hit the arm rest. She didn't make any attempt to move away from him; all she did was slide her arm across his chest and settle her face into the crook of his neck.

"Gene..." she said quietly after some time had passed.

"Get some sleep, Bols," he murmured, bringing a hand to her hair. "You're gunna need it..."

"No," she whispered. "I can't... I won't..." she sniffed again, and Gene twisted his head to meet her eyes.

"Then what d'you want from the Gene Genie at this time o' night?" There was a small, playful edge in his voice and her tense body visibly relaxed against him.

She remained quiet a few moments, then murmured, "Can I tell you about Molly?"

There was an unreasonable amount of fear in her voice, as though she really thought he'd deny her that small pleasure; he'd never have breached the subject again himself given that days brush off to his enquiries, but there was a part of him that was still intrigued by that unheard of part of her life... so he gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze, before saying, "Yeah, Bols... I'd like that."

---

So she told him; she told him how Molly loved The Pussycat Dolls, but hated the Sugababes- Gene assumed they were two different types of toy that were only ever discovered by those with children.

She told him how Molly's favourite meal was her godfathers homemade shepherd's pie, and how she liked it served with lots of gravy, potatoes, carrots and parsnips, but if a pea was anywhere near her plate she would bemoan it for the rest of the night.

She told him how, once, Molly had tried to run away, but had returned ten minutes later because she realized her favourite programme was on, and that she wanted to watch the television.

Gene listened, his arm constantly around her shoulders, his other hands fingers running in gentle circles across her shoulder blades, down her arms, dancing down her spine and up again in a consoling gesture... when she finished, he squeezed her gently, looking down at her to see the slightly calmer expression that had graced her face. Tear-tracks still marked her face, and her eyes were still puffy, but she was calmer, more collected...

"Do you think Rosa... do you think... what was she like?" Her voice was soft, reflective, not bitter or sad, just questioning, inquisitive...

"I reckon she was just another teenage girl, Bols; 'ad a laugh with her mates, liked a drink or two with 'er fella, argued with 'er Mam and worried 'bout 'ow she looked." He squeezed her as she winced, grimacing, and he knew that, in her head, she was seeing the flesh hacked away, the yellowed skin of malnutrition, the pallor of white at the loss of blood. And he knew that she was reinforcing her own theories as to how Rosa McKellen came to be dead; and though he didn't agree it was suicide, he didn't bother to say so, instead continuing to speak, even though words were becoming increasingly difficult to voice as she rubbed his side gently with the palm of her hand, brushing the fabric of his shirt over the soft skin that lay beneath. "Probably read Mills 'n' Boon, had dreams o' being an actress, 'ated school and wan'ed to see the world..." He looked her deep in the eyes and whispered, "I ain't gonna lie to you Bols; she was probably just like your Molly... bit rebellious, stubborn as an ass, and bright as a new penny..." he cupped her cheek gently and brushed away the single tear that trickled from her eye. "You know this sorta thing don' 'appen often Bolly... me an' you both ain't never seen the like before... somethin' this bad, this... this messy... don' 'appen often, Bols..." His eyes were boring into hers, and he could feel her shaking again before he whispered, "an' I need your 'ead screwed on the right way for this, Bollykecks... 'cause if I don' 'ave your psychtwattery going off in me ear, we ain't gonna find this bastard..."

The sentence lingered, then dissipated in the gaze they shared, eyes warm and full of feeling... she was shifting slightly, turning her head more towards his... her lips were parted, wet, glistening in the light... then he cleared his throat, breaking the eye contact and shifting slightly, his eyes facing up to the ceiling as he continued to feel her lingering gaze on his skin...

"Gene," she murmured.

"Yes, Bols," he answered, eyes still on the ceiling as he avoided the temptation of meeting her eyes.

"Thank you..." Her voice was timid, and he couldn't help turning his head to look at her. His eyes were sincere as he spoke again.

"Told you, Bolly... any place I'm needed, I'm there..." She was looking at him again, coming closer, so close he could smell the perfume of her skin; it was intoxicating and he was practically putty as she moved her mouth closer to his face... she looked stupidly gorgeous, even with the makeup stains on her cheeks. Her lips were bigger than he'd noticed before; plump, glistening, red....

Red...

Red for danger and passion and love and heat... which was it that was coming towards him?

Danger, he thought. Red light; Danger. Bloody stupid idea...

And just as her mouth came to within a centimetre of his, he moved his head slightly aside so that she brushed the rough stubble that scattered his cheek with her soft lips.

"Bols," he murmured, closing his eyes and pressing his hand into her back to encourage her not to move away from him. "We can't... you're not thinkin' straight... you'd regret it tomorrow." He didn't meet her gaze, blinking quickly and fixing his vision on the phone on the opposite side of the room.

There was a moment of silence, and Gene wondered if he'd said the wrong thing... then her quiet voice answered and he closed his eyes to the perfect little posh lilt that drove him wild... "Thank you..." she murmured, "but even if I'm not thinking straight... I know I wouldn't regret it."

He felt her rest her head on his chest and he sighed with relief, wrapping her tighter still in his arms. "Maybe not, Bols... but let's not try an' find out tonight, 'ey?" She nodded against him and he smiled slightly, closing his eyes.

"Gene?"

He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face as he said "yes Bols," once again.

"Will you stay the night?"

Looking at the clock, Gene shrugged. "It's five in the morning, Bollyknickers... doubt I'd sleep if I 'eaded 'ome now anyway."

There was a small silence before she added, "Is that a yes?"

He chuckled, holding her closer still. "Yeah, Bols, I'll stay. Now try an' get some kip... gotta work in the mornin'..."

"Poof," she muttered into his chest. He smiled.

---

When he woke up a few hours later, he was somewhat surprised – though not upset – to find Alex's hand under his rugby shirt, rubbing gentle, teasing circles on his back as she dozed beside him. Somehow, in the course of the night, they'd managed to roll so that he was pressing her into the back of the sofa, their legs tangled up and both pairs of arms firmly settled around one another as they slept. Her hair tickled his face lightly, her face still pressed into his neck.

----

Alex didn't sleep; her eyes stayed closed, head rested on his chest throughout the night, but she wouldn't allow the threat of sleep to penetrate her mind... even with Gene's reassuring presence, she knew that in sleep her subconscious would dredge up the thing she feared the most, and that, away from the feel of Gene's body so close to hers, she'd give in to fear, panic and scream and cry as she had before... so she settled against him, waiting until he fell asleep and she could hear the gentle sound of his breathing, before she slid her hand up the back of his shirt, seeking the reassurance of his warm skin on hers... He shifted slightly closer at the touch of her cool hand, and she stilled, opening her eyes briefly to look up into his face.

He looked handsome; not typically handsome like Peter had been... more rugged, more dangerous... more sexy. She had to admit, the sight of him in his jeans and rugby shirt, a look she wouldn't have pictured him in, but one she whole-heartedly supported now, had done wonders to help her calm down, loosening some of the pain that wrapped itself around her as she'd taken in the way the shirt showed off his broad shoulders, and how the dark blue jeans, baggy on his legs, slimmed his behind and firmed it up, making it hard for her to resist running her hand across it... She tore her mind away from that image, looking closely into his face once again...

He looked younger, too... like sleep had taken off the stress of his day-to-day life, as though the weight of the world disappeared as he sank into his dream world... she wished she could follow, wished she could take his hand and join him in whatever blissful, pain-free world he now found himself in... but even though she was wrapped closer to him than she'd ever been, it was only out of comfort that he lay here; she had heard his response to her advances, and it was clear now that, while he was here, wrapped around her, it was only out of consolation, friendship, companionship... the romantic feelings she might have deluded herself into believing were mutual didn't exist; she was alone on that path, just as she was alone on her search to reach Molly, to look after her...

But while he was here, holding her protectively and consolingly, she swore to enjoy his company, to treasure every moment in which she could bury her face into his neck and inhale the faded smell of his aftershave without his judging her... So she lay, stroking his back, eyes closed, head resting on his shoulders, against his neck... and during the night, as he shifted in sleep, she allowed herself the simple pleasure of moving with him, echoing his movements and allowing him whichever position his subconscious state decided to place them in... And when he stirred, showing the first signs of awakening, she kept her eyes closed, breathing levelly and feigning sleep, tragically unable to keep the smile from dancing across her lips.

---

He thought about moving, but looking down at her, she seemed content in sleep, a small smile on her face, her breathing gentle and soothing to the ear... He shifted only slightly to avoid the aching pain in his left calf where the sole of his shoe was pressing firmly against him. He let out a small groan as cramp settled in at the onset of movement, cursing himself as Alex shifted slightly against him, hand moving further up his back and sending a delighted shiver down his spine.

"Morning," she murmured, eyes closed, hands still caressing his skin, and he nearly fell off the sofa. It was one thing to subconsciously react to the pressing of another body to yours in sleep, but she was willingly caressing his bare back now, stroking, tickling...

"'ey?" was all he could manage to voice, and she let out a half giggle.

"Go back to sleep," she yawned, shifting so that the gap he had made in his shock was breached, body lengths well pressed into one another. Gene gulped, glancing towards the clock and willing his body not to respond to her closeness; it was quarter to seven; definitely not early enough to excuse himself, since they didn't need to be at the office until nine, and his running away would only make things awkward later.

"Yeah..." he grunted, shifting slightly away. When she snuggled closer again he groaned, pushing her slightly away and meeting her eyes as she looked up in confusion and hurt. "Bols, I'm a bloody bloke, it's mornin' and I 'aven't gone for a piss yet... d'you really wanna be pressing up like that?"

She smiled initially, opening her mouth to say something, before sighing and nodding. "Fine." There was an expectant look in her eye and he frowned, until she finally said. "I thought you wanted to go to the toilet?"

Gene stared, then rolled his eyes. "Bloody 'ell Bols, what's got into you?" He disentangled his limbs from hers, somewhat disappointed when her hand slid out from under his shirt, almost regretting his decision to tell her it was a bad idea... almost... but not quite.

"Nothing, Gene," she said innocently, "maybe that's the problem?"

The flirtatious tone in her voice made him stop his movement towards the bathroom, his eyes inquisitive... "Yeah... bet it is, Bols... they 'ave shops for people like you, you know."

"Nothing like the real thing though, is there Guv?" She was waggling her eyebrows now, taunting him, sitting up and alerting him to the fact her shirt had ridden up, the dressing gown tangled in itself behind her back, revealing her long legs, the curve of her buttocks and the blue lace of her knickers.

There was a moment where they both stared at one another, and then he was pushing her down onto the sofa, gentle but firm, until her head hit the armrest, laying his body along hers. He dipped his head, tracing the tip of his nose upwards from her collarbone, up the side of her neck, over the softness of her cheeks... his breath was warm on her skin, his eyes closed, nose moving slowly over to her ear, which he nuzzled briefly, before whispering, in a gruff, loaded and lustful voice, "you couldn' 'andle me, Bollykecks..." he inhaled the scent of her hair before pressing his slightly chapped lips to her earlobe and murmuring to her, "I eat posh tarts like you for breakfast."

Alex was shaking beneath him, a warmth pooling between her thighs that she couldn't begin to understand; he'd barely touched her. "I'm not sure I believe you, mister Hunt," she said softly. In response, Gene blew lightly in her ear, one hand lifting up to trace it slowly... Alex shivered. Christ, he was good at this.

"Believe it, Bols..." he growled. "You'd be creamin' yourself for weeks."

"That doesn't sound so bad..." Alex trailed off as Gene cupped her face between his hands, grip tight, fierce, yet warm... she was completely captivated by his eyes, fixated on hers with burning lust in their depths; she bit her lip as he whispered to her.

"I... I'd ruin you, Alex... so don' tempt me."

---

**Thank you for those who continue to read; I hope it's up to standard!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	5. The Other Half

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**The lyrics included in this chapter are evidently not my own; credit goes to Nick Lachey, but the song fits well, I hope you agree!**

---

He left quickly, with one last brush of his lips against her ear, letting himself out whilst she lay there, apparently too shocked to move. He closed the door behind him, then sank to the ground on the landing outside, head in his hands.

Shit.

It had been unbearable to have to resist her; unbearable, painful, heart wrenching... and yet if he hadn't, if he'd gone with her wishes and actually kissed her, actually let something happen, then they'd have ended up in a more awkward mess than this, surely? He knew what he was like; he knew he was bad for her, he knew he'd mess with her head and hurt her, and that was the last thing on earth he wanted; because it was Bolly.

He'd messed other women around time after time, and it had never really bothered him; he started it, he toyed with the idea of making it a regular, serious thing, then he ended it and they never spoke again...

But he actually _liked_ Alex, and therein lay the problem.

She fascinated him; she was clever, funny, sexy, great at her job, and gorgeous to boot. But sooner or later, surely that fascination had to come to an end? And then what would they do? If he shagged her, say, and took the risk of a relationship with her, it was only a matter of time before it went to shit and one of them –and, hierarchically speaking, it would most likely be her- had to leave, to move away... and could he bear that?

She wasn't just a skirt these days; it was a bloody nuisance, but last night had proven, once again, that they weren't just DCI and DI, not just colleagues; they were friends, companions even... and it wasn't like him to have female friends. He had female acquaintances... but they were just women who he occasionally dabbled in sex with, who were all otherwise attached and knew it wasn't serious; and if they ever thought it was, they'd end it.

But Alex?

Not an acquaintance; though he knew he'd only scratched the surface, something he'd rediscovered having listened to her speak about Molly last night, he sometimes thought he knew her better than he knew himself. It wasn't difficult, he knew; any time something to do with him came up, he simply buried himself at the bottom of a large bottle of whiskey, away from the demons he wanted to keep at bay, and there was little to know...

But was she a friend? Did friend do it justice? A 'friend' didn't ring at three in the morning and ask him to stay the night because they were scared, surely? He could imagine Ray's response, if Gene or Chris were to ring at that time of night; "don't be such a poof" he'd say... and the thing was, if it was anyone but Bolly, male or female, he'd have said the same thing.

So where did that leave him? He wasn't just a friend, but he wouldn't allow himself to cross the line between whatever they _were_ and whatever they could be...

And he _wanted _her; he didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone quite so much... but it was that wanting, that innate desire that tugged him towards her, which warned him to stay away; she was too good for him. And although now, in this moment, the idea of spending years upon years waking up just as they had today appealed greatly to him, he couldn't be sure it wasn't just a delusion; and being delusional would have been fine, if he didn't have to work with her, didn't have to see her everyday, didn't have to spend day after day debating case after case... but he did.

So, even though it hurt, he did what he knew he had to do; he walked away.

----

Alex stared at the door for what felt like hours after he'd walked out, though in reality the time passed was a few mere minutes. She was confused and hurt, and at the same time, she was touched and thankful, though reasons for each were many and incoherent.

Her skin tingled where he had traced his nose and hands over it; it felt warm and static, as though an electric current had been passed over her skin. She was cold and hot all at once, and as she lay there, staring at the closed door and wishing he would re-enter with cups of coffee and settle himself down beside her, she was struck by an overwhelming sense of loss; suddenly, the comfort his presence had offered had been ripped away from her, as though the carpet had been torn from beneath her feet and she had lost her balance. The haven of his arms, earlier so reassuring, had been broken through, ripped apart, and suddenly she felt at the mercy of the elements, too weak to resist them, victim to their power... The fear and panic that had slowly dissipated throughout the night all returned to her in one powerful wave of emotion, and from lying there dumbstruck, she was suddenly sat down and rigid with sobs. She shook and shook, but Gene didn't return; an hour later, when the ache in her lungs from her ragged breathing had ebbed slightly, and the tears had all been shed, she pulled herself into the shower and started to get ready for work.

---

Alex walked into his office and he could see the pain in her eyes; rejection shone through the facade of confidence as she placed several case notes down, informing him of leads in small-scale investigations and levelly informing him that perhaps they should go and see Benji Bragden.

He wanted to take her in his arms and apologize; she couldn't possibly know it, but he was hurting too, and all he wanted, all he desired in the whole world at that moment, was to take comfort in her soft body pressed against his... but he wouldn't, and he knew it. So he stood up, grabbed his coat, shrugged it on, and indicated for Alex to leave the room before him. She said nothing, simply complying.

He was annoyed to note that she'd donned a cardigan that covered her arse from view; he slammed the door on his way out.

---

Benji Bragden was scrawny, with greasy brown hair, red, spotty skin, and a dress sense that made Gene want to cringe. He was wearing drainpipe jeans, tucked into white nylon socks that came out of black, tatty trainers. The shirt was checked, thrown over a white round-necked top and buttoned halfway up the chest, half-tucked into the jeans; not so bad, if it wasn't for the torn sleeves, the bright pink checks, and the fact the look was better suited to someone a little cooler. His glasses were horn-rimmed and brown, resting slightly crooked on his nose, which looked as though it had recently been broken. When Gene flashed his police badge, Benji didn't look at all surprised, tiredly holding out his hands without speaking a word. Both Gene and Alex frowned, before Gene shrugged, tugging –but not altogether too hard- on the boys arm as he lead him to the car.

"You sit in there," he said gruffly, opening the door and pushing him in the back, where Ray was sat, looking wickedly menacing with a small grin on his face. "Don't do anything stupid, and DS Carling won't 'ave to 'it you." He slammed the car door shut, locking it quickly, before turning to Alex.

There was a moment as he looked at her where their eyes met, both sets filled with confusion, and he had to double-take before he spoke. "Right Bols, lets 'ave a look round."

---

It was a dingy, one-roomed flat, but for the small toilet that lead off to the right on entry. The brown wallpaper was peeling from the walls, the carpet was stained with what looked like ten years of food, and the small bed that lay in the corner was sagging under its own weight, a thin mattress stretched over it. A cooker was in the corner, on which were two saucepans which, on closer inspection, held fast-decaying beans, stuck to the bottom and turning a nasty green colour. Gene rolled his eyes, rifling through the kitchen cupboards; corn flakes, spaghetti tins, a few off-white plates and a mouldy loaf of bread.

"Not a hungry one our Benji," he muttered briefly, looking at the seven-day-past best before date. He turned from the kitchen and pursed his lips in thought.

The room was a mess, with boxes, clothing and beer cans strewn across the already limited floor space. A few scrunched up balls of paper were discarded too, and, typically, it was these that Alex gravitated towards, carefully unfolding each piece and taking in the contents. Whilst she did so, Gene briefly thought about turning the place inside out, but he knew Alex's reaction would be one of utter annoyance, and the last thing he needed was for her to have extra reason to be pissed with him. So instead he watched her, hands in his pockets, waiting for her to say something of interest... and when she didn't he turned to the small, beaten-looking bedside table, which was falling apart at the hinges, and pulled the drawer open.

There wasn't much inside; an old looking notebook, with faded writing on the front advertising some company or other, a wallet, a few pens that looked as though they were running on the last reserves of ink, and a small photograph in a handcrafted frame, made out of several drinking straws and masking tape, with a piece of card covering the back and holding a faded picture of a much younger Benji, and a woman Gene assumed to be his mother.

For a moment, Gene considered the photograph, then placed it aside and picked up the wallet; a few pennies, a five pound note, and a condom. He mentally clapped the boy on the back for being prepared, but then placed that aside, too, tentatively picking up the notebook and opening it to the first page. It was blank, except for a small drawing of a stick boy and girl, and a heart. Beneath it, someone had drawn a kiss. He flipped through the book quickly; most of the pages were filled with small, cramped black writing, but as the centre page fell open, Gene stopped, putting his fingers out to stop any more pages passing, quickly pulling out the other half of the picture strip they had found in Rosa's purse.

This one was torn along the top, slightly cutting off the top of Benji's floppy hair. The picture was slightly different to the one Rosa had been carrying; the couple were looking one another in the eyes, both giggling like children. In Gene's opinion, Benji still looked like a useless, unattractive dork, but it was evident that they were both happy enough... Turning it over, he found a small scrawl, in a different hand to that on Rosa's picture.

_For my darling Benji x_

There was no reason behind it, but somehow Gene felt a strange, gut-instinct, that something was not right, as though something were missing... he looked over to Alex, who was staring at the piece of paper she held with scrutiny. He waited a few moments, but when she didn't look up, he cleared his throat, beckoning her over and holding the picture out to her. "What'd you make of it?" He asked gruffly.

Alex's eyes were filling with tears again; it was quite evident just what she made of it. "He's got the second half," she said eventually, swiping at her eyes. She briskly added, "It's just sentimentality Gene... I wouldn't expect you to understand."

He stared at her for several moments, feeling his chest tighten slightly; yes he knew he deserve it after the way he'd left that morning, but surely he'd shown just how sentimental he _could_ be, hadn't he? He'd left for _her_ sake, not his own! "Right," he said softly, voice low. "Right..." he repeated it a few times, and then looked back to the notebook, eyes falling on the scrawling hand, forcing him to blink. He read it a few times, then looked at Alex, who was still wiping at her eyes about the photo. He rolled his eyes at her, but couldn't deny the fact he wanted to reach out and comfort her, hold her, tell her everything was going to be ok...

"Here," he said, pushing the book, open on the correct page ,to her chest, before walking around her, lifting up the mattress and peering under it, half-expecting to find a stash of fifty-pound notes; but he found nothing except old socks, and dropped the mattress again quickly.

---

Alex could feel his eyes on her, feel the hurt radiating off him from her comment, but she wouldn't take it back; he had no idea how much his actions that morning had hurt her, and she felt justified in pointing out her bitterness to him. But his brief touch, the pressing of the notebook into her chest, had sent her heart skipping, and had it not been for the fact she was so choked up by what she read, she'd probably have turned to him and obligingly fell to her knees in apology... as it was, as her eyes could only scan the paper, legs like jelly as tears fell unashamedly down onto the page, silent reverence to the poetic declaration of love.

_I hear the emptiness that echoes in your cries, and someday I pray that you will finally realize...You're __BEAUTIFUL,__ that's all that I can say, __UNFORGETTABLE__, I'm caught in every way, don't ever let the mirror tell you lies, just look at your reflection __IN MY EYES... YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL_

He'd written some words in capitals and bold red pen, making them stand out against the page, prominent and obvious, the message clear as day, his meaning bold and forceful, feelings plain, open for the world to see.

Benji Bragden might not be much to look at, but he had a way with words.

---

Other than the notebook and the photographs, there was nothing noteworthy in the flat; the papers Alex had been scrutinizing were simple bank statements, showing the scant amount of money that Benji held to his name. Gene piled them onto the bed and turned to Alex, who was still staring at the notebook, her back to him. For a moment, he wanted to tell her to hurry her arse up, that they had work to do and she was wasting time...but then he heard her small, shaken sobs, and, apart from rolling his eyes and telling her to grow some balls, the only thing he wanted to do was gather her up in his overcoat and hold her there, stop her shivering, stop her tears... "Bols," he said gruffly, "get your arse in gear. We've got a suspect to question."

And he walked out again.

---

She joined him in the car a few minutes later, her makeup scrubbed away from her face, eyes still red, but in her opinion alot more presentable now there wasn't mascara dribbling unattractively down her cheek. As she checked the rear-view mirror to look at Benji, she saw Ray looking from Gene to Alex with suspicion, and she had to turn her head away, looking out the window as Gene put the car in gear and began to drive.

---

Gloved hands gripping the steering wheel tight, Gene didn't dare look at Alex, fixing his eyes firmly on the road ahead, paying unnecessary attention to the body of a dead pigeon, and to road signs, and other cars... anything that sat outside the four walls of his beloved Quattro was a haven from the awkward cold that had settled like a blanket over the car the moment his DI had rejoined them.

He didn't know what she'd expected him to do; he could hardly wrap her in his coat on the job, lie down on the creaky bed of a teen-murder-suspect with her in his arms and tangle his fingers in her hair, fall asleep with her ear pressed to his fast beating heart... he couldn't, much as he'd have liked to.

He needed to talk to her; he knew he did, but he didn't know what to say... how did he explain any of it to her, when he himself was confused about how he felt? He didn't _do_ women... well, he _did_ women, but he didn't do commitment or caring relationships... not since his ex-wife. He'd left a string of conquests behind him since then, and he refused to let her be the next; she deserved better than his failed attempts at romance and his commitment-phobia. Glancing sideways, he saw her staring resolutely out the window, and resolved to talk to her, as soon as they were done with Bragden.

---

"I didn't kill her you know," Benji said softly, seated opposite the two of them in the interview room. He met Alex's brown eyes with his own green ones, and though they weren't particularly attractive or compelling, there was a sincerity in their depths that Alex couldn't help but believe, and Gene could see her practically melting into a maternal-puddle. He rolled his eyes and sat back, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke.

"What exactly was your relationship with Rosa McKellen?" He said gruffly. He could see Alex's look of distaste out of the corner of his eye, and it was mirrored on Benji's face as he turned his gaze on Gene.

"What sort of a question is that? She was evidently my girlfriend or you wouldn't have bloody brought me in!" It struck Gene in that moment that, though he looked like a geek with a poor dress sense and bad skin, there was a more ballsy personality to the young man sat before them than they'd estimated, and his jaw ground tightly as he leant forwards, voice low, assessing him quickly.

"The question, Bragden, was a more polite way of saying 'were you shagging 'er?'"

Benji was visibly angry, his thin hands clenching repeatedly. "You don't have to answer that," Alex said softly, but Gene interrupted.

"Yes he bloody does, Drake!" He slammed his hand on the table and hissed again, "were you shaggin' Rosa McKellen?"

"She was my girlfriend for two years," Benji said bitterly, "what do you think?" He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, holding them there, breathing shallow and heavy, for several moments. When he pulled back, his eyes were red, but he was evidently calmer. Gene resisted yelling at him for a straight answer when Alex turned a sharp, withering glaze on him; he sat back in his seat, jaw set in anger as Alex leaned forwards, voice soft and gentle.

"I know this is a very hard time for you, Benji... DCI Hunt is just trying to follow the right course of investigation, and, unfortunately, that means interviewing any possible suspects..." She reached a consoling hand across the table and touched his dangerously bony wrist with it. "Would you like anything? A cup of tea? We'll just have a chat for a bit..."

Benji shook his head, "I don't want a cup of tea... thank you." His eyes were glistening as he said, "I want to know who killed her... I want to know more than anything because... because I... she..." he trailed off briefly, then whispered, "I wish I could help you, I really do... but I don't know how I can."

Alex nodded slowly, "that's ok, Benji... it is... just tell us about the last time you saw Rosa... when was it? What did you do? Things like that..."

"Tuesday night," Benji said softly, looking at his hands, which were shaking and quivering. "She came round in the afternoon... her mum dropped her off at my flat... had a takeaway... a cuddle... stuff like that..."

"What'd you eat?" Gene said, arms crossed and eyes stern as he fixed an un-quavering gaze on the young man before him.

Benji rolled his eyes, "we had Indian. It was her favourite."

"What's yours?" Gene asked. Once again, Alex and Benji shared the same look of utter disbelief. "What?" He answered gruffly, "I'm followin' my own course of investigation!"

"What's the relevance?" Benji said calmly.

Gene leant forward on the desk, "what I want to know, Bragden, is why you felt it necessary to buy her favourite takeaway, the night before she wound up dead?"

"If you're trying to pin me with killing her it won't work; for starters, if I wanted to kill her, I wouldn't give a shit about feeding her, would I?" Benji met Gene's eyes and went on; "My favourites Chinese; her is Indian. We'd been together two years, and I bought her dinner to celebrate. I don't have a lot of money, so couldn't take her out properly, so I got her favourite. Satisfied?" His gaze was level, and Gene shrugged.

"We'll see 'bout that." He pulled the photo out of the evidence bag he held beneath the table, sliding it across the table. "For the record," he growled, "is this you in the picture?"

Benji rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Were you aware that Rosa McKellen had another picture from the same strip in the purse that we later found in the warehouse near the body?"

Benji nodded. "She always carried it in her purse; she liked to have it with her... I kept mine in my book..." he looked at Alex, "what's happened to my book?"

"We've got it," Alex said softly, reaching under the table to pull the bag from Gene's fingers; their skin brushed and she froze, not daring to look at him but feeling his eyes on her, before pulling it quickly towards her and taking the book from the plastic. When she slid the pad across the table, Benji sagged with relief.

"Thanks," he sighed, smiling briefly. Itching his cheek briefly he said, "I kept it in there, 'cause that's where it's safest... Thanks Ma'am."

Alex nodded, opening the book to the centre page, "did you write this?" She asked.

"Oh fuckin' 'ell," Gene grunted, standing up. "I'm gettin' a brew. You two enjoy your bloody useless tea-party won' you?" He slammed out of the door, a silence taking over the room for a few moments before Benji muttered, under his breath, "cheerful, ain't he?"

With a smile, Alex nodded. "He has moments of slight humanity, I assure you..." her mind briefly trailed back to that morning, wrapped in his arms... then she was looking at the tape, and she grinned. "Sorry, Guv." Pointing at the page Gene had shown her earlier, Alex said softly, "this is lovely," she said softly. "You had me in tears."

Benji's lips quirked slightly, "thanks..."

"Do you write much?"

Benji nodded. "Yeah..." He met her eyes. "I promise you, I didn't kill Rosa. She was... she was everything to me... always has been, since I met 'er." He looked away, bony hand trembling as it reached for his face. Alex nodded.

"I hope that's the case, Benji, but it's policy; you have to be here, I'm afraid... can you tell me about Rosa?" Her voice was tentative, but it seemed she'd asked the right question. A small, fond smile tugged at the man's lips and he nodded.

"What'd you want to know? The good, the bad, or the whole lot?"

"Whatever you want to tell me," Alex said.

He snorted at that. "I can tell you whatever you need to know. But I'm guessing Amanda told you she was anorexic and that she didn't like to eat alot..." he looked down. "That's why I got her Indian, Ma'am... she liked it... she ate it... didn' ever eat much else... 'course, she didn' eat much o' that... but it was summat..."

Alex smiled, nodding encouragingly, "yes, she told us... we didn't know about the Indian though."

Benji shrugged, "don't think she knows, to be honest... Rosa didn' ever ask for it; she liked it but she still thought it made her fat..." he blinked. "I told her she wasn't, I did..."

Alex nodded, "I'm sure you did."

There was another silence for a few moments, then he said, "she wasn't happy much... that's why I wanted that picture safe," he pointed to the booth picture, Rosa and himself giggling stupidly at one another.

"Never seen her laugh so 'ard since..." he smiled in reminiscence, turning his eyes eventually back to Alex and saying softly, "she had a shit life. She was ill, she hated herself, her Dad left when she was young, and her Mum still loves him and sees him every week, even though she thinks Rosa didn't know, and even though Rosa hadn't seen him in years..." Benji was gritting his teeth. "She wanted to see him," he said. "But he didn't want anything to do with her after she got diagnosed... not because he didn't love her... just 'cause he couldn't cope..."

Alex leant forwards, voice soft, "do you think it's possible that it was suicide?"

Benji met her eyes. "No." His voice was equally level, gentle, and Alex was preparing to nod in acceptance when he said softly, "she couldn't have done it; she spoke about it once or twice... how close she got... but she couldn't do it... too scared... couldn't hurt herself." He blinked, then softly murmured, "she asked me to do it once..."

"Asked you to do what?" Alex said, though she knew the answer already.

"To... to... to... you know..." he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. "She said she was... ugly... that she wanted to go to sleep before it got worse... that she didn't... couldn't, face herself... but she couldn't do it... she didn't like pain... she couldn't swallow tablets, either, so she wouldn't overdose... an' she couldn't afford other drugs so..." he closed his eyes. "She told me once she knew how she wanted to go, and that I'd help her if I really loved her..." A tear traced the lines of his face and Alex touched his hand gently.

"What did you say to her?" She probed softly.

Benji sniffed, wiping at his runny nose and speaking quietly, "I told her that," he said, pointing at the lyrics he'd scrawled in his booklet. "Just.... not so many words..."

Another silence stretched between them, the room cold, before Benji looked at her, tearful, and Alex wondered if he'd yet allowed himself to grieve... her answer came in his next sentence. "Can I see her? I want to say goodbye..."

Alex opened her mouth to answer, just as Gene slammed his way into the room, looking utterly furious as he plonked himself in his chair. "Right, Bragden, you're-"

"Going to see Rosa," Alex said softly.

Gene turned his head slowly to the left. "You pullin' my leg, Bols? 'cause it ain't funny!"

"He's going to see Rosa," Alex repeated, standing up and touching Benji's hand briefly.

"Get outside." Gene hissed, seething. "Outside... now!" When she didn't move, he grabbed her by the elbow and steered her out himself, against her angry protests. When the door shut behind them, he prodded her fiercely in the chest. "What the bleedin' 'ell are you playing at, Drake? He's a bloody murder suspect; he is _not_ gettin' anywhere near that body without express permission from yours bloody truly, and I say 'bollucks to that!"

"Oh what a surprise," Alex hissed. "Do you really think him capable of killing her? You saw what he wrote Gene, you don't believe he'd kill her any more than I do and-"

"You seem to be very averse to catching a bloody killer 'ere Bols... first Ellison, now bloody Bragden... and you're forgettin' who's in charge... And that's me; yours truly; Gene Genie; The Sheriff. So do your job, get your arse in line or get outta my station!" His warning was growled, intense, and Alex was ashamed to feel a hot flush pass over her body at the look of utter passionate rage in his eyes, but she refused to let him see it.

"He just admitted she wanted to die, Guv!" She hissed.

"Oh well, there you go Bols, he must be tellin' the truth!" He moved closer, breath on her face as he growled, "you're the bloody psychiatry whizz Bols; you tellin' me everythin' that falls out of 'is mouth 'as to be true?"

"No... but..."

"Good. Screw your 'ead back on and stop letting your own feelin's get in the way; a girl is dead, 'nd I'm gonna find the bastard who killed her, with or without your 'elp!"

"But she wanted to die! Even if it's not suicide, it's euthanasia and-" she stopped as Gene pressed her against the wall, hands on her shoulders and body pressed along the length of hers as he hissed in her ear.

"Consider this a warnin', Drake; put another toe outta line, you're out on your arse. Understood?" He squeezed her shoulders tighter, almost painfully, then pulled back, loosening his grip and meeting her eyes with his, jaw set tight. "Go back to your desk, Bolly," he muttered, then pushed his way into the interview room, shutting and locking it behind him.

----

**Mage of the Heart**


	6. A Different Sort Of Criminal

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

---

The second Gene Hunt entered the room alone, criminals quaked in their boots; he knew it. And he knew why- he knew the glint he got in his eye when he'd caught the scent of some misdoing, knew the straight set of his mouth that ingrained itself on his features when something wasn't adding up, and he knew that when he met their eyes, his own blazed with fury and injustice.

He also knew that most of the men he'd got in this room were brash, brawling, hardened criminals, with a head full of sawdust and a throat lined with shit; they were liars and manipulators, but a thumping could do wonders to loosen their tongues, and once he choked the bullshit out of them, they usually caved.

Gene wasn't so sure that Benji Bragden would; he could beat the shit into the little bastard, but he looked the type to offer smart witticisms and intellectual quips that would anger Gene into a blaze of fury and, probably, result in another wasted, -though physically satisfying- beating.

Because Benji wouldn't cave just because Gene flashed the coppers badge and kicked him in the crown jewels; he was the sort of kid who'd probably been bullied at school, who'd most likely developed a second skin against physical brutality, who threw up walls of insults and quips to avoid anything the bully wanted... so Gene sat down, even though his fingers were clenching into fists and the urge to smack the kid around the face was nearly overwhelming, and he slid Rosa's half of the photo-strip across the table, right next to Benji's.

"Pretty bird, ain't she?" Gene said, musing, looking at Benji levelly. The younger man nodded, his jaw tight. "Or at least," Gene went on, "she was... Shame she got 'alf 'er skin 'acked off really, ennit?" Benji flinched, wincing in almost physical pain, eyes shutting tight, clenching to try and stop the swell of tears in their depths; he failed. A single tear escaped the shell of his eyelid, but Gene ignored it. "Not so pretty when she was bleeding everywhere though, was she? Not so pretty when you couldn' see her little baby-blues looking at you anymore..."

"Stop it," Benji said softly, eyes spilling over with tears, magnified by the lenses of his glasses before they ran down over the rough, red sores on his cheeks. "I don't want to know..."

"'cause she mighta been pretty before them bones started growin' every which way, righ'? Bloody stunnin'; but they ain't pretty are they, ey Benj?" Gene's voice had lowered to a hiss, cold and menacing. "Them great big lumps; ugly, rough... bloody terrifyin' too, right? Give you the heebie-jeebies, did they? Get too much? 'cause you might've told 'er she was beau'iful but you couldn' 'ave meant it when she was like that, could ya?"

"Stop it," Benji said softly. "She wasn't... she was perfect. I didn't care!"

"She'd 'ave thanked you if they weren' there though, wouldn' she? No more bullyin' at school, no more wakin' up and lookin' in the mirror to find another one someplace new? Chop 'em off an' she'll love you more, righ'? She gettin' bored of you was she? Two years of the spotted geek rubbed off? Need somethin' to 'old over 'er 'ead? Keep her with you? 'cause even a dyin' girls got standards, 'ey?" He could see Benji shaking and leant closer, voice full of threat and anger. "Only it didn' work like that, did it? 'ey Benj? Got carried away, didn't you? All them lumps... and that little knife wouldn't cut through 'em properly, would it? Not sharp enough... so you just 'acked an' 'acked an' acked until you couldn't see 'em anymore... and she died, didn' she, Benj? All that blood... couldn' 'ave survived it could she... she just lay there while you hacked away at her and-"

"SHUT UP!" Benji cried. "Please shut up! It wasn't me! I promise on my life it wasn't me! I couldn't! I wouldn't!"

Gene let a loose growl escape his throat as he leaned closer still, "bully for you Bragden, but I don' think your life's worth promisin' on! You're a murderin' scumbag and deserve to be locked up in a cell for the rest of your itchy, sorry, _scrotty _little life!"

"IT WASN'T ME!" Benji wept. "I couldn't do it! She wanted me to and I wouldn't! I told her- I told that lady Inspector- I told her, she wanted me to but I couldn't!" His tears were falling fast, and the fact that he was nearly twenty was washed away by his bereavement; sat there, face swamped in salted tears, eyes puffy, skinny back hunched, he looked no older than twelve. His arms were wrapped around himself and he rocked back and forth on his chair, sobbing uncontrollably. "I loved her. I did. I do... I wouldn't kill her!"

"I don't give a sorry dogs-arse if you loved her, any more than I give a damn what colour your Y-fronts were before you crapped yourself! All I care about is the fact that _you _were the last person to see Rosa McKellen alive, and she's now dead!" Gene had leapt to his feet, leaning over the desk to grasp Benji by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up from the chair and bringing his face down to Benji's; he could smell the boys breath on his face – it was horrific; beer, mixed with morning breath. Gene was suddenly struck with surprise at the state of the messy boy before him. Dropping Benji back into the seat, Gene remained standing, hands leaning on the desk as he spoke gruffly. "You better give me answers Bragden, or I _will _get you sent down for murder; understood?"

Benji nodded, and Gene sat down.

---

Alex sat at her desk, shaking with rage, hurt and frustration. She could see Ray, Chris and Shaz, huddled together, out of the corner of her eye, throwing curious glances at her as though expecting her to break down. Well, she told herself, she wouldn't. Gene Hunt could be as malicious a bastard as he wanted, but she _would_ not, _could_ not, allow him to get under skin. So if he wanted to bully innocents in this investigation, fine, but she wasn't just going to sit there. Standing up, she walked through CID towards Viv, leaning conspiratorially close over the desk, "can you let me know when the Guv's finished in the interview room?"

Viv frowned, but nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Thanks Viv," she smiled, pulling away and throwing him a wink. "Drinks on me, ok?"

The grin lit up his face, "course Ma'am."

---

"When did you last see 'er?" Gene asked, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set.

Benji was still sobbing, but they were silent except for the occasional hitch of his breath; "Tuesday night."

"What'd you do"?

"Ordered an Indian... from the flat... she didn' like going out much... so I ordered it... got delivered... ate a bit..." He gulped and Gene raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

Benji closed his eyes, "we 'ad a cuddle... like... you know...?"

"We're both men, you trollop, if you shagged 'er you may as well say so."

He flinched away as Gene's harsh tone resonated through the room, but nodded slowly. "Yeah... we... we did... but then she was... she were saying... she started saying how much it hurt..."

"The shag?" Gene asked, rather abruptly. Benji shook his head. "Lumps?"

A beat, then Benji nodded again. "Yeah... they hurt her sometimes... 'cause it just... it just... it was just taking over her like... couldn't move 'er arms alot no more... started to spread like... doctors were saying she had about two years before it all started... started compressin' her heart and... well... killed her, I guess..."

"So?" He heard it as it left his throat and he cringed inwardly at his own lack of sensitivity, but the boy before him was still making him uneasy; there was some untapped depth to Benji Bragden, and he didn't know how to reach it, but it was necessary that he found out, and he knew it; so any sympathy and empathy would only cause him trouble.

Benji had his eyes closed, as though trying to block something out. "She talked about it alot... said they hurt... how she wanted them to go away so she never had to look at it again... told me she couldn't do it herself... so... so she said... she said I should... 'cause I'd do it if I loved her, she said... only I told her before I wouldn't... and she didn't... didn't like it. Said I was being selfish because I was worried what'd happen to me... but it wasn't that... and when I told her she... she yelled." His face was awash with pain as he whispered. "She said I didn't love her, and that she knew... knew people who'd help her... if she asked for it... I yelled at her and-"

"Lashed out?" Gene growled. "Threatened to do it? Tried to scare her into saying no?"

"NO!" Benji said; his red face was soaked with tears, his glasses wonky on his nose from his repeated nudges as he wiped at his eyes. "No! I yelled at her that she was the one being selfish... and I know I shouldn't have, I do! But I thought it'd blow over in a day! And when she walked out, I just figured she'd gone home and that she'd ring me in the morning when she calmed down... 'cause that's what we did. We'd fight, she'd leave, then she'd ring me and we'd be ok... Only... only she didn't ring. An' I didn't either... And I just thought she was angry... so I didn't say anything, didn't think to ask Amanda if she was home, and Amanda didn't ring me... so I thought it'd be ok..."

"So you yelled at her, arguing about chopping bits of her off, and she conveniently turns up the next morning half-'acked?" His voice was grim, but the accusation was evident.

"You don't really think I killed her," Benji said softly, looking away. It was a statement, not a question, and anger bubbled in his stomach.

"Wrong. I think that right now you're a prime suspect, and you're makin' up convenient stories that you think'll get you off and-"

"I didn't kill her," Benji said, meeting Gene's eyes. "If I wanted to kill her do you think I'd tell you I was bloody with her on Tuesday night? Do you think I'd stick around for you to come knocking on my door? Bloody hell, would I really have left the wallet and necklace there if I'd killed her?"

Gene's head snapped up. Benji's face was angry, but it was nothing compared to the dragon of fury rising in Gene's stomach.

"Nobody said anything about a bloody necklace you filthy little git!" And this time he didn't hold back; he stormed around the table, grabbed the scrawny boy by the neck and slammed him against the wall, thumping him repeatedly in the jaw, in the stomach, kicking him between the legs... the nose, recently broken, splintered beneath Gene's fist, blood gushing from Benji's nostrils as he sobbed and choked and spluttered.

"I didn'... I didn't do it... couldn'... wouldn't... wasn't me!" He was crying, the tears washing away some of the blood, but Gene was still slamming him repeatedly against the wall.

"You're gunna tell me 'ow the 'ell you knew about that necklace you little shit, or I'll give you a piece of your own medicine!" He grabbed Benji by the hair, yanking his head back so their eyes were on a level. "You've got ten minutes to think about telling me the truth, and when I get back you better do just that or I'll wring your scrawny, lying neck! Understand?"

---

It turned out that Alex didn't need Viv's help at all; when Gene stormed back into CID, Alex could see the blood on his fists and she leapt to her feet, chasing him into the office without asking his permission, ignoring his obvious chagrin as she slammed in behind him, eyes flaring wide as she prepared to yell.

She didn't try to hide her surprise when he turned to her and shouted her down, "did you tell him about that necklace?" It should have been a simple enough question, but the rage in his voice was enough for it to sound almost like a threat. Alex recoiled at his words, shock evident on her face, and Gene knew the answer before she voiced it.

"No... no! Why would I tell him? What did he say?"

Gene reached into his overcoat, drawing his hipflask out and gulping down a large amount before replying, "he said he wouldn' 'ave left the necklace and wallet there if 'e killed her." He took another large gulp, eyes closed tight as he spoke again. "Bloody _bastard_!"

"He... he knew?" Alex's voice was laced with disbelief; she couldn't believe that Benji Bragden was capable of murder... she just couldn't. "Maybe we let something slip? Maybe Ray mentioned it in the Quattro or-"

"Drake," Gene interrupted coldly. "'e knew what nobody but us would've known if they hadn't been there; 's far as I'm concerned, he's guilty as sin."

"But we... he... no..."

"He's guilty, Bolly," Gene growled. "Are you coming to get a confession, or you gunna sulk on your arse like a spoilt little rich girl?"

---

When she walked into the interview room and saw the state Gene had left Benji in, she battled with hundreds of emotions all at once; if he was innocent, he'd just received a beating that he in no way deserved, yet if he wasn't, if he really was responsible, then Alex wouldn't be able to stop the small dance at the victory of justice going on in her stomach- if Benji Bragden had killed Rosa McKellen, then even though it went against all the rules and ethics she had long ago set store by, Alex thought that Gene _could _and _should _beat the boy into the ground as much as he liked.

"Start talkin'," Gene growled, leaning cross-armed against the wall, a little way behind Alex, who stood uncomfortably in the centre of the room, staring at the bloodied nose, the bruising eyes and the rip on Benji's shirt from where Gene had dragged the young man from his seat.

"Nothing to say," Benji said, looking away. Gene leapt forwards, and Alex threw her arm out to stop him.

"Stop, Gene," Alex said softly. "Beating him won't make him tell us anything." Her hand squeezed his bicep gently, and Gene's stomach flipped slightly before he nodded. Alex risked a small smile in his direction, and then moved to sit down once more. She pressed record on the tape, looking at Benji with a depth of confusion, mixed with loathing and pity that she couldn't quite comprehend.

"Benji, how did you find out about the necklace?" Her voice might have been soft to the untrained ear, but Gene picked up the slightly steely tint and suppressed a smirk; once you pissed Alex Drake off, you were in for one hell of a ride.

"I didn't kill her." Benji hissed.

"So you keep sayin'. Only you seem to know about restricted evidence, so unless you're a Plod and we don't know about it, you're walkin' a very thin line." Gene's voice was level, uncharacteristically so given the interview situation.

"Just because I know about the necklace doesn't mean I killed her!" Benji argued, eyes blazing. "I swear to God I didn't kill her!"

Gene was bristling, but he didn't move as he growled, "Well what a tough pair of bollucks that is, 'cause I don't believe you! You best start talking Bragden, or I'll get you sent down for life! An' it's a rough twen'y odd years in a cell with a bending poofter!" The hint of poison in Gene's voice sent cold shivers down Alex's spine, but it melted away when she heard him walking up to the table, felt him leaning half on the spare chair, and half on hers, his fingers brushing her spine... Her stomach unclenched and she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Just tell us how you knew the necklace was there," she implored, ever the voice of reason. Gene trailed another finger briefly up her back in encouragement as he drew his hand away, pulling his chair out and sitting himself tentatively down.

Benji looked scared; his eyes were wide, his mouth was slightly open, his glassed were crooked and broken, and the tears at the end of his eyelashes were magnified by his half-broken lenses. "I saw it... not the killin'... just the stuff like... I dunno what 'appened! I swear! She left mine and I followed her-"

"You said you stayed at home." Gene growled.

"Well I didn', alright?" Benji's voice was full of annoyance, as though Gene were a frustrating fly he wanted to swat away, "I followed her, 'cause she wasn't meant to go out walking on her own in case she got hurt... so I followed, and she... she was meeting someone... some bloke or other; he was wearing a hood, I couldn't see him... she just threw all the stuff in the corner and I checked it later to see what it was... but then she saw me and told me to go, that she didn't need me no more and..." he cracked, his tears falling again though his voice remained strong. "She said he was her new me."

Gene snorted in amusement. "'ow convenient for you."

Alex, too, found it difficult to believe, but persevered, "this man... you said you couldn't see him... do you have any idea who he was?"

Benji shrugged, "Angel, maybe."

"Oh bloody 'ell we picked ourselves a friggin' choirboy!" Gene muttered.

"No," Benji said, "he might have been Angel; she talked about him. He was a friend... her friend... not mine... I never met him, but she said he understood, that he knew how she felt... and when she spoke about him she was happy so I never questioned it because that's all I wanted!"

"You know what, Bols," Gene said, "either we got ourselves a nutter, or he's talking out o' his arse."

"Interview suspended." Alex spoke up, loudly, hitting the stop button quickly without glancing at Gene. "I'll get Viv to take him to the cells." She left the room before Gene could protest.

---

"We were gunna crack 'im, Bols; why'd you stop?"

They were sat in Luigi's, tucked away in the corner or the room away from the rest of the team, Gene digging into a steak and chips pizza while Alex picked half-heartedly at her tagliatelle.

"Because I think it's time we went back to Amanda McKellen and asked her some questions, don't you?"

Gene snorted before taking a long slug of his beer. "In case you forgot Bollykecks, the last time we saw 'er, you made it plain as day you thought 'er daughter topped 'erself- she's 'ardly gonna welcome us with open arms, is she?"

Alex shrugged. "If she wants to help us find whoever killed her daughter then she won't mind too much, will she?"

With a sigh, Gene leant forwards, "look Bols, she just lost 'er only kid... 'ow about we let 'er be a few days, 'ey?"

"No," Alex said, "because if Benji wasn't lying-" Gene interjected with a loud guffaw before quieting under Alex's gaze, "-then maybe Rosa's mother will have heard about this 'Angel' too."

Gene was thoughtful, considering, "he's a different sorta criminal, ain't 'e?"

Alex shrugged, "if that's what he is."

Gene said nothing, stuffing a large piece of pizza in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully, until eventually he swallowed and said, "I still think 'e killed 'er," and his voice was full of certainty, didn't leave room for debate; Alex didn't point out that only the day before he was convinced that Joe Ellison was also a murderer... There was a slight pause before he added, "but alrigh'. We'll go first thing."

Alex smiled; it wasn't happy, but it was grateful, and Gene gulped, looking down at his plate as she whispered, "thank you."

Gene simply nodded, unable to form any coherent words. There was a silence before Alex added, almost too quietly for human ears, "and not just for this."

When he looked up to meet her eyes, he found that she was looking rather more intently at her food than was strictly necessary, eyes glinting in the light of the dimly lit room. His forehead creased into a frown as he answered her. "I didn' do anything, Bols," his voice was softer than she could ever remember it, softer even than last night when he had spoken to her in the midst of her despair.

She turned her eyes on him, glistening hazel fixated on sparkling blue, and Gene's stomach began to clench and unclench repeatedly. "You did, Gene... you did."

There was a moment where his eyes fell to her lips, where he looked intently at the glimmer of light on her lip-gloss, at the slight dimple around her mouth that he wanted to kiss, to further imprint on her face in a full-blown smile... and then he looked up to her eyes again and shook his head almost imperceptibly... "I shouldn' 'ave left like that, Bols..."

Alex shrugged, breaking the eye contact to twirl her fork in her bowl of pasta. "I'm sure you had your reasons, Gene... you usually do." The pain and hurt in her voice acted like a knife twisting in his stomach, and he flinched away from it, voice quiet in his reply.

"I don' wanna 'urt you, Bols..."

"I know, Gene," she whispered. "So don't." She met his eyes then, gaze boring into him as she added softly, "I'm not asking you to be anything more than you are... than you feel you can be... and if-"

Gene interrupted, his voice gentle. "What do you want me to be, Bolly? Honestly?"

Her mouth twitched up at the corner and she gently hooked her index finger around his; his heart pounded faster than ever, but he didn't react, simply meeting her eyes and asking the question once again with his eyes.

"I want you in my life, Gene Hunt... I _need_ you in my life... for as long as I'm in this forsaken little world, I need your friendship... so even if it's all we ever amount to... promise me you're my friend?"

Gene looked at their interlinked fingers, her words sinking in... 'all we ever amount to', she said... what if that was it? What if they were friends and nothing else, and for the rest of his days he wished he'd told her, held her, kissed her...

But he saw the need in her eyes; the loss, the emotional upheaval and the amount of difficulty that question had posed for her, and so, despite the fact his heart screamed that they would not, _could _not ever be 'just-friends' in his mind, he nodded, his throat tight. "I am, Posh-knickers," he murmured.

There was a moment of silence, their fingers still hooked around each other, before Alex gently squeezed. "Thank you." The silence stretched on, breached only by their gentle breathing. Eventually, Alex spoke up, and, though her voice was timid and scared, as though afraid of rejection, there was a slight edge of playfulness; "can friends have pyjama parties?"

Gene looked up into her eyes, and he saw through that thin curtain of teasing, saw the fear, the ghosts of the previous night swooping down on her consciousness... and he knew what she was asking for, knew it was only friendship she sought from asking him to stay... but the need to be close to her was overwhelming, and he found the words rolling off his tongue almost subconsciously, "Yeah, Bols, they can."

----

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	7. In The Arms Of A Friend

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

---

Gene excused himself ten minutes later, driving the short way back to his house to collect an overnight bag, then returning, slipping in through the side door to avoid the speculation of the rest of the team. Alex had left the door slightly ajar, and he pushed in, slightly unnerved by the oddly domestic feel of having the door open for entry as and when he chose. Pushing it open and slipping inside, he heard Alex in the kitchen, humming something softly in her throat, some tune he'd never heard but that ingrained itself on his memory as it left her. The kettle was boiling, the water bubbling loudly as Gene dropped his bag by the door and walked into the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe and watching Alex as she spooned sugar into a cup of coffee he knew was meant for him. A slight smirk tugged at his mouth, ears picking up on the humming more successfully now, hearing each note for what it was; there might not have been words, but the tune itself spoke volumes- friendship, comfort, happiness... the reason he was here.

"Ain't gonna burst into song are yer Bollykecks?" His voice was teasing, and when she jumped he knew she'd just been jerked from a reverie in which he didn't exist. Her face was blank for a moment, before she grinned cheekily.

"You, Mister Hunt, wouldn't be know what hit you." She handed him the coffee with a smile.

"Don' doubt it for a second, Bols; if your hummin's anything t' go by, my ears might 'ave to be sliced off to save myself." Taking the cup, he took a sip, eyes glinting wickedly, "but if you fancy dancing about like a fairy, s'long as no noise is involved, I'll give 'ole-hearted support."

Alex laughed, glad that he was settling back into his typically flirtatious behaviour as she led him over to the sofa, curling her legs up beneath herself as she sank into the cushions, briefly overwhelmed by the still-present scent of Gene's aftershave on the fabric from the night before. He didn't notice her momentary lapse into fantasy, seating himself with an arm thrown over the sofa's back, coffee in hand. Eyeing the cup in his grip thoughtfully, he said, "Seem to be making an 'abit of drinking non-alcoholic drinks at poncy times of the night..." he quirked an eyebrow at her, and she grinned.

"Two nights in a row is hardly habitual, Gene."

"Dunno Bols," he mused, "spend twenty-years on the booze 'til three in the mornin' it gets kinda normal." He shrugged, looking up to see her hazel eyes assessing him. "Oh bloody 'ell," he muttered, "you ain't gonna start bloody analysing me with your psychtwattery are you?"

Alex smiled, shaking her head, "no, Gene... I'm just thankful you're here." She briefly touched her hand against his, and then pulled it away, lifting her cup to her lips and sipping contentedly.

Gene nodded, face solemn. "Yeah... me too, Bolly."

There was a long stretch of silence, during which they both finished their drinks, placing their cups on the coffee table and stretching out as much as the sofa would allow; one of Alex's legs stretched to brush Gene's knee lightly with her toes, and he had to stop himself jerking away at her touch; it wasn't that he didn't like it, or want it, more the fact that he was terrified what reaction his body would have to her attention, especially when she repeatedly flexed her toes, briefly brushing his leg each time. Eventually, the silence and the touch of her were all too much, and Gene spoke up, voice oddly loud in the quiet of the night.

"What's eatin' you then, Bols?" He muttered, shifting round in his seat and trying not to notice that his knee knocked closer to her foot as he did so. He half expected her to simply explain away her fear as being the same as the night before, but somehow it didn't fit, didn't seem right; she wasn't crying, she wasn't panicking, she was just remorseful, lost...

She didn't reply for several moments, her eyes focused on her foot, resting gently against his knee, before she murmured, "If he killed her, Gene... what does that make him?"

Gene scowled. "A murderin' scumbag, Bols, just like every other sick bastard we lock up week after week." His tone was flat, to the point, and she knew without a doubt he believed his words implicitly.

"But is he though, really? What if she wanted to die? What if... what if she knew her life was past the point of being worth living?" The emptiness in her voice shook him, and Gene looked at her foot with his eyes downcast.

"We're the law Bols, and whether she wanted to die or not, it's still illegal, an' he's still scum. We ain't here to argue it, we're here to stop innocent people dyin' on our patch." His hand found her foot, brain searching for a change of course in conversation, finding one as his mouth twitched into a surreptitious grin at the flowers on her white socks. "Nice, Bols. Real fashionable."

She looked down at her own feet and smiled in return. "I had a pair just like them when I was younger," she answered, remembering with a sigh the pair that Evan had brought her on her 7th birthday, along with a new teddy and a Barbie doll. "Saw them and couldn't resist." She stretched languidly out as Gene's fingers began to rub and caress the base of her foot, and she let out a contented sigh.

"Any other fantabulous socks you wanna show the Gene Genie, Bols?" He teased, meeting her eyes with his, blue orbs dancing as his fingers worked magic on her foot.

"Mmm..." she said softly, "only the Tinkerbell ones."

"'ey? That little pixie swot?" The distaste was evident in his voice, laced in each word as his face wrinkled into a frown.

Alex grinned, "yes Gene, the very same."

Gene let out an odd grunting noise, "bloody women."

With a laugh, Alex closed her eyes, concentrating on the touch of his fingers along the sole of her aching foot.

---

They sat for a few hours, talking, Gene casually easing the knots from her feet and making regular statements of complaint, despite continuing his attentions nonetheless. It was nearly one before Alex swung her feet from Gene's lap, not noticing the slight look of disappointment that washed over him, before he replaced it with his customary solemn face. Alex stood up and stretched her hand out to him, "I'm turning in... are you coming?"

Gene gulped. "I... I dunno, Bols..." her sofa was one thing; there was nothing really personal about her sofa, but her bed? Somehow the idea of sleeping next to Alex Drake, in _her _bed, covered by _her_ duvet, head on _her_ pillow... it was overwhelmingly intimate, and he wasn't sure how to react.

"Please, Gene," she said softly, hand still outstretched, though it twitched slightly, as though begging his attention. Gene stared at the offered appendage carefully, as though assessing which angle it would attack from... he'd never taken the time to really look at her hands, to learn the ridges and contours, and though it was normal, he reasoned, to ignore such pointless things as hands when presented with a face as gorgeous as hers, it was an intimacy he couldn't help but want to engage in...

She had slim, elegant fingers, he noted, with polished and perfected nails, except for one which was ever so slightly mangled at the base. Her bones weren't visible, making the back of her hand appear smooth, milky and soft. There was a slight scar at the base of her little finger, brighter than the rest of the skin, whiter, too, with an air of humanity he might not have expected from the regal posh-bird he'd come to adore. He took in the sight for several moments, imprinting it on his memory before looking up into her eyes, seeing again her raw vulnerability, and feeling the sigh as it breathed through his lips.

"Alrigh'," he said softly, standing up and slipping his hand into hers, ignoring the skip of his heartbeat and the whiff of her perfume in his nostrils as he rose to his feet. His skin tingled at her touch, and it was with a deep breath that he let her lead him towards the bedroom, his stomach all nerves, despite knowing that this was not a bed shared between lovers; it was a bed shared between friends. So even while her hand was in his, and even though he didn't doubt they'd fall asleep with arms around one another, he knew that there was nothing but companionship flowing between their intertwined bodies; nothing to be nervous about... so why did he want to bite his nails and fidget like a three year old caught in the cookie jar?

As she got changed in the bathroom, he sat uncomfortably on the bed, slipping off his shoes and socks, and grimacing at the idea of another night sleeping fully-clothed. He wasn't used to the restriction; in his own bed, in his own house, he slept in nothing or, if it was chilly, boxers and, occasionally, a vest top. Now, all he could do was empty his pockets, placing his cigarettes nervously on the bedside table, along with his lighter, a pen and some loose change. After some internal debate, he opted to remove the heavily buckled belt from his waist, and unfastened his tie and two of his buttons. When Alex walked in, he was in the process of undoing the cuffs on his wrists, rolling his sleeves up to the elbow before sitting there, an almost expectant expression on his face. She grinned at him, walking to the other side of the bed and laying herself on top of the duvet, smiling continually. Gene watched her, eyebrows raised, pretending not to notice that, whilst she was wearing a conservatively long t-shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms, her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric, showing all too clearly that she was not, by any means, wearing a bra. Resisting a groan, he took a deep breath and lay down, looking at her with a soft complacency that sent shivers down her spine.

---

Alex didn't really know what to think as he laid there, a good few inches between their bodies as though they were both scared to initiate contact, for fear of scaring the other away. It was hard to tell what he was feeling, too, as, since their earlier conversation about the 'pyjama party,' neither of them had really brought up the dawning possibility that they might come to share a bed. It was as though they had silently agreed on a taboo of the subject, and now neither of them was able to find a way to verbalise whatever was going through their heads...

But she wanted to.

She wanted to reach over to him, clasp his hand in hers and roll herself into his warm embrace, listen to the gentle rhythm of his heart and maybe, if she were brave enough, press her lips to the small v at the base of his throat, revealed by the unbuttoning of his shirt which was having a more direct affect on her than was strictly necessary. She wanted to feel his arms around her smaller body, feel his breath on her face and the touch of his skin against hers, as she had that morning... She wanted to.

But she wouldn't.

---

It was ten minutes or so before either of them made any attempt at movement, and when it came it was Gene, not Alex, who rolled onto his side and looked at her, eyes locking with hers and holding them in their gaze. "Wanna sleep, Bols?" He muttered, feeling his eyelids flutter with tiredness as he stifled a yawn, before returning back to her gaze.

"Yes." Alex said, her voice small, tentative, nervous...

Gene nodded. "Good..."

There was an awkward pause, then he added, "'ow'd you want me?" before realizing what he had said and looking down, cursing, "shit. Bols, I didn' mean like that I just..."

Alex was laughing hard, eyes watering as he began to apologize profusely, before she finally gave in and shook her head, the grin still on her face as she said, "I know what you meant Gene... and I don't mind... whatever's good for you." He didn't miss the flirtatious lilt to her voice, and he had to close his eyes briefly and envision Maggie Thatcher in a thong before he felt safe to look back at Alex without getting hard.

"'t's your bed, Bollykecks... 'ow'd you sleep normally?"

Alex shrugged, looking down, "well, usually, I'd be on that side, but-"

"Fuck, sorry, I'll move!" But as he went to stand up, Alex caught his arm with her hand, smiling at him and shaking her head.

"Don't Gene, it's fine." And with the touch barrier broken, it felt less encroaching to shift herself closer to him, to rest an arm over his chest in an almost possessive nature and to put her cheek on his shoulder... and he responded by slipping his arm around her waist, holding her firmly to his side, whilst his other arm dangled loosely over the side of the bed.

"You know it's no trouble if you want this side o' the bed, Bols," Gene said, twisting his face to look at her. She shrugged.

"Ok," she muttered, deliberately sliding one leg across his stomach, sitting up and rolling above him, eyes locked on his as their crotch's brushed against one another. Gene swore, grabbing her by the waist and rolling her quickly to the side, though still leaving one arm around her shoulders as he pulled back, rolling the rest of his body away. His breathing was heavy as the brief pressure on his body threatened to take effect, all blood rushing to his groin as he closed his eyes and desperately wished it away. It didn't help that Alex was giggling helplessly, shifting to rest her head on his arm once more and shaking in amusement as Gene lay, tight-lipped and silent, trying to forget the feel of her on top of him...

"Uncalled for, Bolly," he managed to grunt when he had finally got his body back in check. She simply laughed, sliding closer, once more held in his warm embrace.

"Sorry, Guv," Alex grinned, placing her face in the crook of his neck and sighing contentedly. "Goodnight," she murmured, body aligning itself alongside his as her eyes fluttered closed, two nights worth of tiredness pulling heavily on their lids. As she drifted off, she was vaguely aware of Gene's hand on her back, rubbing abstract patterns into her soft skin...

When he was sure she was asleep, he turned on his side, laying his head back on the pillow and feeling her snuggle subconsciously closer. Thinking back to their conversation in Luigi's early that evening, he placed his lips next to her ear and whispered, "I need you an' all, Bollykecks."

With one last look at her sleeping face, Gene closed his eyes, and fell into slumber.

---

When the sun peeked through the curtains - Alex having forgotten to close them before getting into bed - Gene awoke, bright rays of light teasing his eyes open, finding, for the second morning in a row, Alex Drakes body entangled with his own. Only this morning, he wasn't pressing her into the back of the sofa; he was laid on his back, Alex somehow having situated herself between his legs, head resting on his chest and ankle hooked around his, hair blowing softly against his face as a light breeze drifted in through the window. He groaned, trying to twist his face away from the tickling sensation of her soft hair on his skin; it didn't work, and as she slept soundly on, his body awoke to the press of her breasts on his chest, to the pressure of her hips against his crotch. With a groan, he attempted to shift his body to the side, but the friction made the contact worse, made blood rush to his groin with speed, and instead he found himself pressing his hips down into the mattress whilst attempting to keep her body at a respectable distance from his own. It didn't work, and so, after several moments of deliberation, he gathered her gently in his arms, holding her close, taking a brief moment to inhale her scent, before rolling her gently to the side, disentangling his leg from hers... He hesitated a moment, eyes resting on her sleeping face as she shifted slightly on the bed, before he slid away from her... No sooner had his feet touched the floor, than Alex spoke up, voice groggy with sleep.

"Where are you going?" She yawned, patting the bed next to her. Gene glanced at the clock; five fifty-two. Not soon enough to claim he was making her breakfast, then.

"Loo," he said gruffly, "back in a minute, Bols." He paused briefly, watching as she settled herself on her side, eyes closing as she muttered a soft reply.

"Ok... put the seat down when you're done..." she yawned, hands seeking out her pillow and holding it to her chest, "going back to sleep..."

"Yeah... ok, Bols..." He wanted to sound sarcastic, annoyed that she was telling him to carry out good etiquette he had learnt at the age of seven from his Mam, but actually, his stomach was flipping with that odd warmth that came whenever she said something slightly more intimate than that involved in their everyday relationship. With a slight grin, he sloped off to the bathroom.

---

It was full of her smell, he noted, with soaps and shampoos scenting up the room and twirling into his sinuses, sweet smells that were intimately Bolly, like the whiff of hair, the scent on her skin... he couldn't resist sniffing at the perfume bottle on the bathroom shelf, feeling his stomach churn and, unbidden, his trousers tighten on his groin. He groaned, placing the perfume down again and resting his head on the mirror, trying unsuccessfully to rid himself of his arousal... unfortunately, the room was filled up with that gorgeous scent that turned him on, reminding him only of her, the curve of her arse, the roundness of her tits, the wicked glint in her eyes when she _knew _he was getting horny... And then, in the overflowing washing basket, he could see her delicate lace pants and bra, red in colour, thrown aside almost carelessly, and he knew without a doubt that he was lost. After sliding the lock across on the bathroom door and lifting the toilet seat, he undid his trousers, hesitating only slightly before sliding both them and his boxers low on his hips, hand wrapping around his length as his mind filled up with the scent of her, the sight of her, the feel of her, the sound of her breathing as she'd slept in his arms, the discarded underwear and the wisps of hair in his face... He groaned, working himself slowly as images conjured in the depths of sleep leapt to the forefront of his mind; Alex Drake, straddling him in the front seat of his Quattro and riding him slowly, head thrown back in bliss... Alex Drake, on her knees in front of him as he stroked her hair whilst watching football through blurry, unfocused eyes as her mouth worked over and over him, repeatedly...

Teasing his tip, he pushed aside the slight feeling of guilt at the knowledge that the object of his lust was laying in the room outside that door, integrating himself so firmly in his fantasies that he could _feel_ her tight heat around him, could _hear_ her whimpers and moans as he fucked her, could _taste_ the wine in her mouth as he curled his tongue around hers, could _smell_ the musk of her as he went down on her, could _see_ the pleasure on her face...

And then he was stifling a groan of bliss, a mantra of 'Bolly' going over and over in his mind, but never leaving his lips as he erupted into his own hand, legs shaking with the force of his orgasm, the strength of his morning-fantasies shocking him to the core... "Shit," he groaned, leaning against the wall for a moment, before finally, eventually, bringing himself back to earth enough to clean up, put the seat down, flush the toilet and wash his hands.

---

Minutes later, he was sliding back into Alex Drake's bed, nervous of his indiscretion as she scuffled closer without question, discarding the pillow she had replaced him with and confidently wrapping her arms around his back and murmuring into his shirt, "you took your time."

Gene flinched, "curry," he explained.

Alex looked thoughtful through her tiredness before she muttered, "I thought you had pizza?"

Gulping, Gene shrugged, "food poisonin' maybe? I dunno, Bols, go back to sleep."

He didn't notice the knowing grin on her face as she closed her eyes and answered, "You should see a doctor."

"Yeah, Bols, maybe," and then he closed his eyes again, arms around her once more as he slipped into a sated sleep.

---

They walked into CID a few minutes apart, Gene having left while Alex was still putting her make-up on, the separation much less awkward than before. When she walked into the office, Gene nodded at her, earning himself a smile, before he entered the office, giving her a look which she knew only too well; she followed him in. When the door was shut behind her, Gene perched himself on his desk, frowning slightly.

"Been thinkin' Bols..." he said, "'bout what you said last night..." Alex felt her heart skip a beat, but then it stopped with disappointment as he went on, "'an' maybe we do need to go see 'er Mum again... but if yer comin' wit' me, you gotta keep all your suicidal pish-posh an' mumbo-jumbo to yerself. Got it?"

Alex nodded, arms crossed. Gene ground his jaw briefly, then muttered, with his eyes to the floor, "d'you... did yer sleep ok?"

Smiling tentatively, Alex nodded once again in affirmation. "Fine, thanks... did you?"

A curt nod, eyes still fixed as far from her as possible, "need me to...err... d'you wan' me to... to come over tonigh'?"

Trying to cover up her joy, Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "Shall we see how today goes?"

With a gulp, Gene nodded, corking his disappointment and trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah... alrigh'..." There was a moments silence before he finally said, meeting her eyes this time, "right, let's get over to Mrs McKellen, 'ey?"

Alex nodded, then, looking hesitant, glanced out towards the rest of the office; Ray, Chris and Shaz were all huddled together, facing away... Stepping towards Gene, she slid her arms around his waist, feeling his confusion and his tension before he returned the gesture with deliberate tenderness, and she murmured, face buried in his blazer, "but, just in case... can you get your bag?"

Her voice was timid and shy, and Gene nodded, before realizing her face wasn't turned towards him. "Yeah... but I ain't drinking tea and coffee again; it's whiskey, or it's bitter, or I'm showin' up pissed as a fart. You got that?"

Alex smiled. "Yes, Gene. You bring the whiskey. We'll make a night of it."

A hum went through Gene's chest beneath her ear as he whispered, "you bet we will, Bols... now come on... gotta go see the Mother Goose."

---

Amanda McKellen was not pleased to see them; her eyes went dark as they fell on Alex, who shifted without conscious thought closer to Gene, so that her white, booted foot was touching his black one. He made no movement to say that he'd noticed it, other than to gently nudge back at her with his toecaps, all the time addressing Amanda, his eyes fixed on her.

"Sorry, love," Gene shrugged, "we need to ask you a few questions..." He flashed his police badge as though this would have a positive effect, but the glare on Amanda's face told them she didn't need the badge to know who he was. Indicating Alex, Gene added, "an' I promise this one'll keep her gob shut this time."

With a reluctant sigh, Amanda opened the door and stepped back, allowing them to enter her house, Alex staying a step behind Gene as he followed Amanda towards the living room.

---

"We're followin' a... a differen' line of enquiry," Gene said, sitting on the chair awkwardly, hands dangling between his legs and searching for something to do. "We err... we spoke to Benji... Rosa's Benji, I mean... an'... well... what d'you make of 'im?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Benji Bragden's got a heart of gold; not much to look at, but he wouldn't kill my Rosa... that much I'm sure of."

Gene ground his teeth briefly, then muttered, "'e 'ad some information 'bout the crime scene we wouldn' 'ave let slip... knew things that were there, things 'e wouldn' know if 'e 'adn't been there..."

"You're as bad as that one," Amanda snapped, glaring daggers at Alex, who was sat conservatively and, for a change, in silence. She looked up as Amanda spoke, but didn't respond, letting her continue. "He might well know things –he's a bright lad after all – but he would never have killed my Rosa. You're jumping to conclusions based on the fact he was close to her - If you're here to ask me to give a character witness against him, you're looking in the wrong place, now if you please I-"

"Mrs McKellen," Alex said softly, eyes falling on a crucifix above the mantelpiece, "was Rosa a religious person?"

Gene looked at her as though she were mental, "wha' the bloody 'ell 'as that got to do with-"

"Yes," Amanda interrupted, meeting Alex's gaze squarely, her own eyes filled with confusion and query. There was a moment Alex didn't expect her to reply, but when she did, her voice was sharp and clipped, as though she, as well as Gene, thought that question was a pointless waste of time. "She went to church every Sunday. Why?"

"Did she believe in Angels?"

"Answer my question, DI Drake, and I might answer yours." Amanda's voice was cold, icy, and Alex sighed, having hoped she would not yet have to mention Benji's theory.

"Benji mentioned that Rosa often spoke about someone called Angel; he said that they were friends. Did she ever mention that to you?"

Amanda blinked. "She mentioned an Angel, yes," she said slowly, face wrinkled into a frown, "but I always assumed she was referring to Benji- she thought the world of him. He wouldn't hurt her, of that I'm sure; they had their moments, but I know – I _know_ – he loved her! He couldn't kill her, I know that. He isn't the type."

"Did she ever say who Angel was, what he looked like, anything like that?"

Shaking her head, Amanda murmured, "no... No. She just said he was her Angel... that he looked after her, made her feel beautiful..." She met Alex's eyes, her own full of questions as she whispered, "why is this important?"

Alex glanced at Gene, who muttered gruffly, "Benji says this Angel bloke was with Rosa the nigh' before we found 'er..."

"But that's impossible," Amanda said, "I dropped Rosa off at Benji's flat myself and..." the colour drained from her cheeks, but she remained resolute as she said, over and over, "It wasn't Benji... it _wasn't_ Benji..."

"Can you think of anyone else it might have been? A friend of Benji's perhaps? Someone they both knew, someone they got on with?" Alex was careful to keep her voice level and gentle, and Gene glanced over at her and could practically see the need for information clawing at her brain. Hiding a smirk, he looked back toward Amanda, who was shaking her head slowly.

"No... Their only mutual friend was Joe, and he was with me on Tuesday night." Her voice was honest and flat, but, despite knowing that it was unprofessional and that there was really no reason to further enquire, Gene couldn't help the small smirk that played across his lips as he spoke.

"All night?" He asked, with more than a hint of innuendo. He could feel Alex's disapproval, but shrugged it off. Amanda sighed, turning her gaze on Gene.

"Yes, Chief Inspector, all night. He's been my closest friend since childhood..." with a smug tone she added, "and he's bent as a nine bob note; always has been. So you won't be pinning sexual liaisons on _ME_ Mr Hunt. My relationship with Joe is of no relevance, anyway."

Gene blinked, attempting to block out the snort of amusement coming from Alex, but realizing he didn't need to when Amanda turned on her, face alight with anger. "I should expect nothing else from you; with your judgemental upbringing, your boarding schools and prejudice towards any one slightly different to you!" Her voice was heated, fast spiralling out of control, pitch varying as she spoke. "Can't accept the differences in society, have to pass judgement on any lesser people than yourself and-"

"Alright, love," Gene interrupted, voice stern. "She weren' laughin' at your poxy mate, an 'e sure as 'ell ain't so perfect as you're making out."

"I don't quite understand your meaning, Mr Hunt," she said coldly, "and I'd appreciate it if you didn't revert to endearments."

"An' I'd appreciate if you didn' revert to type when referrin' to an officer of 'er Majesty's Police Service!" Gene growled, voice level, but menacing, "'cause I don' give ten shades of shite whether you think DI Drake's a posh, toffee-nosed tart wit' a poker up 'er arse; she's tryin' to solve a murder an' you're bloody divertin' 'er investigation, so either be polite or zip yer lip!"

Alex remained stock still in her chair, staring, aghast, as Gene gave Amanda McKellen a verbal dressing-down she wouldn't forget in a hurry, all in _her_ defence. With a shaky breath, Alex looked at Amanda, who was red in the face, although, it would seem, not out of anger, but out of embarrassment. A few moments of silence passed, before Amanda looked at Alex apologetically, and though she didn't say it aloud, Alex caught the meaning and nodded in acceptance. Gene just stared as the mood lightened all of a sudden; he would never understand women and their silent looks that, apparently, spoke volumes.

"Other than Joe, was there anyone they both knew?" Alex's voice was gentle, lighter, as though the silent apology had righted all wrongs between the two women, and Gene continued to stare blankly as Amanda shook her head.

"Nobody... they were always secluded; them, Joe, me... nobody else." Tears fell from Amanda's eyes and Alex reached over to grasp her hand. Gene wanted to roll his eyes; bloody women, at each other's throats one second, embracing like sisters the next. At Alex's next question, he expected Amanda to turn into the Devil incarnate once again, but she didn't, instead simply consenting, shoulders sagging...

"Would it be possible to see Rosa's room?" Alex asked softly.

Amanda nodded, still clinging to Alex's hand as she led both she and Gene out of the living room and up the stairs.

"It's in there," Amanda whispered, pointing to a plain white door, scattered with a few stickers. "I can't come in with you... I haven't... I won't be able to face it."

Gene let himself in, avoiding the bewilderingly emotional moment of Alex wrapping a consoling arm around the grieving mother and whispering promises of justice. Moments later, Alex joined him; he didn't need to see her face to know she was crying, and as she closed the door behind her, she slid her smaller hand into his.

---

**So, the plan for the next chapter is to tell you all a bit more about Rosa, so I hope you liked this, and I shall look forward to hearing your thoughts on that. Until then, thanks for all the support and review so far- they've been very encouraging. Hope the chapter was up to par!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	8. She Wanted An Angel

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

Gene didn't say anything, nor did he react, except to wrap his own hand around hers in a silent gesture of reassurance. He reached over for the light switch, flicking it upwards so that the room before them was thrown into relief. The bulb flickered weakly, dimming and brightening at irregular intervals and casting ghastly shadows onto the cream coloured walls.

There was no question that Rosa McKellen was a typically messy teenager; her room was unkempt, with outfits strewn over her bed as though she had been deliberating for hours the correct combination of garments to make her feel and look the most presentable. The room was scattered with rubbish, pieces of cardboard, screwed up paper, school books, and coat-hangers.

The smell of the room was one of damp, as though it had not been aerated for days. The window was closed, with no light peeking in through the dark purple curtains, which matched in colour with the duvet and pillowcase. There was a faint hint of mud, and looking around, it was plain to see why; a pair of black boots stood in the corner, caked from top to toe in thick layers of hardened mud. A few pieces had dried and cracked off, landing on the floor around the shoes and standing out against the pale yellow of the carpet.

Facing the wall was a faded, palely coloured wooden desk, which was covered in make-up, hair products, mirrors and accessories. On the wall before it there were numerous photographs, all pinned or blue-tacked to the wall. Most of the photos included Rosa and one or more of Amanda, Benji and Joe. In the centre of the wall was a slightly faded and crumpled image of a much younger Rosa, aged four at the most, seated on Amanda's lap, with a rugged looking man seated on the arm of her mother's chair, arm slung over Amanda's shoulder, whilst his other hand was held out to the little girl looking adoringly up at him, one of his fingers tightly clasped in her fist. Alex gravitated towards it, wiping her streaming eyes on her sleeve and tugging Gene towards the desk and photos. With a reluctant sigh, he followed, eyes scanning the floor; pins, threads, an empty blue-tack packet, dirty clothes- there was nothing of note. When he looked towards Alex, she was tracing her fingers tenderly over the young Rosa's photographed face, arms wide in astonishment.

"She looks so... normal!" The disbelief was evident, and her grip on Gene's hand tightened. "So happy... look at her, Gene!"

Gene looked; yes, she looked normal, happy, your average four year old... but wasn't that just what she was? "Yeah Bols..." he said, voice gentle but with a gruff edge to it that told her he wasn't comfortable with the conversation, "'cause she was normal. She just 'ad a problem."

Alex sobbed slightly, and in moments she was burrowing her face in Gene's chest, both hands brought up to cover her face as she wept freely. "I can't handle this Gene," she whispered. "I can't do it... pull me off the case. This is... this is too much!" She was shaking violently, her whole body quivering with emotion. Awkwardly, Gene picked his way through the messy room, leading Alex towards the bed and sitting her down with two assured hands on her shoulders as he joined her.

"You're doin' it, Bolly. Just 'cause you care don't mean you can't do it. D'you think I don't care? Think it ain't making my blood boil knowing that there're sick bastards out there who do this kinda thing? 'cause you're wrong. I don't like it; but us ballin' our eyes out won't sort this mess out." His voice softened as a large hand drew up to cup her cheek, stroking away mascara stains as he murmured, "Screw your 'ead on right, Bolly, an' we'll sort it. 'ey?"

"We can't though, Gene," Alex whispered helplessly. "She's dead, isn't she? She's not coming back. Whether we find them or not, it's not... it won't be _right_." She took a deep breath. "I can't work this case without getting emotional.... so please, make good on your promise, and throw me out on my arse!" There were tears in her eyes, and Gene looked deeply into them, into her soul, until she was shivering, seeking the warmth of his chest and the thud of his heartbeat for safety. His hand caught her chin, tilting her face up to his so that their eyes met again.

"I ain't sending you anywhere, Bols, no matter 'ow much you beg me to. 'cause we need you on this one, posh-knickers..." there was a flicker of hesitance in his eyes before he murmured, "_I_ need you on this one."

---

There was a moment where they simply stared into one another's eyes, hearts thundering and minds whirring, before, with a sudden jerk, Gene had materialized on the other side of the room, starting to rifle through the desk drawers without another look at Alex. She, on the other hand, remained stock still, only her eyes daring to move as they followed his movements. His gloved hands flicked through each drawer with practised ease, eyes scouring for evidence, anything that might help them... Alex's mind drew a blank as all she could do was watch, wondering if there was more to that declaration than it appeared. She couldn't imagine Gene Hunt ever needing anyone but himself and his whiskey and his fags, but for this, he claimed, he needed her.

Her; Alex Drake- the renowned psychtwatterist and annoying mental fruitcake... she couldn't believe that Gene would ever _need_ that. Miss it, maybe, if it disappeared. Want it, when he could no longer have it... But he didn't _need _anything.

"Bingo!" Gene said, drawing up, hands on a pink A4 notebook, with hearts scribbled all over the once-plain paper cover. In the top corner was written, in large letters, "My Diary". Alex watched as Gene turned it over in his hands, repeatedly, a frown of hesitance fixed in place. Eventually, he turned to Alex, holding it out. "'ere. You open it."

"I'm not reading her diary, Gene," Alex said coolly. Gene glared.

"Well someone's got to, Bols, and I can't; I'm a frickin' bloke you fruitcake! Christ knows what sorta thing she's written about; don' need to know 'er cycle if you catch me drift, Bols." He looked uncomfortable, and Alex wiped at her still wet eyes as a smile slipped into place.

"Ill-adept as you are with the English language, Gene, I did manage that much." She looked at the pink book briefly, and then shook her head. "I can't," she said, recalling the conversation she had had with her mother about her own childhood diary... she had never read it, Caroline had said. Never looked into her daughters private thoughts and acts... and Alex wanted, as she always did, to be the sort of woman her mother could be proud of. "It's none of our business Gene; she wrote it for herself and nobody else. Please, don't ask me to do it." Her eyes were soft, her tone firm, and Gene had to reign in his frustration as his fingers clenched on the pad in his fingertips, knuckles cracking as Alex watched.

"'course it's our bloody business! She was murdered for Christ's sake! An' other than a bloody mental poofter and a poetic rambling geek, both of whom you swear to the heavens couldn' 'ave done it, we don't 'ave any leads." He held the book out and growled, "she's dead, Bolly, and if we don't look, they migh' get away."

Alex looked from his face to the pink book he held out for her scrutiny. He was making sense, and she knew it. But it didn't stop the fact that Rosa McKellen probably didn't want the whole world reading her own deepest thoughts and feelings... how would she have felt, as young Alex Price, if she had known that her diary was being read and interpreted by complete strangers? Awful, she thought initially... but then it dawned on her that, if she had been able to help the investigation into the deaths of her parents, or anyone, for that matter, she would freely have handed it over... and so, despite the fact her fingers were shaking as she did it, she leant over and took the offered notebook from Gene's hand, hesitating only slightly before flipping it open, breathing heavy as she took in the first page, crammed full with a smooth flowing hand. The first entry was dated last summer, July 17th, 1981. Alex read it quickly, eyes stinging.

_I've got another lump now. It's on my face; it feels just like a big spot before it comes out, but I know it's not. I tried to pop it, thinking it might be a spot, really, but it wasn't. Mum say's I have to stop trying, but I don't want to. If I squeeze hard enough it might break off, and then it won't be so bad; they can cut the broken bit out at hospitals, can't they? I wouldn't even mind a scar from it; at least scars can get covered up with makeup, unlike this. Benji says it's not ugly, that it's just me and I shouldn't get upset... but I am upset. He doesn't understand. Nobody understands. I sometimes think I'm the only one who knows._

Looking up at Gene, she saw the question in his eyes and, with a brief pause, she collected herself, then asked, calmly as she could, "is there another one? Another diary?"

Gene turned, pulling out a blue pad, the same as the pink one, though slightly tattier and unlabelled. "There's this," he said, holding it out. She shook her head.

"I don't want to see it... let's take these and then... then someone can have a look through them..." They both knew that that someone was going to be Shaz. "Anything else?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, Bols, you're the psychiatrist. Come an' 'ave a look." And, though she knew he was really just trying to get her involved again, and though she wanted to correct him and remind him it was 'psychologist' not 'psychiatrist', she did join him, standing with him next to the desk and slowly picking her way through the contents; he'd been quite thorough, actually, even though she wouldn't tell him so, and even though she knew he'd often thought the whole emptying contents scenario a waste of time and decent clothing. The only thing she'd picked out that he hadn't noticed was a bank statement. He snorted at first, but soon stopped when she pointed to the sum of £100, being paid in by an "Angelo Heart?"

His voice was disbelieving, but they both looked up and silently agreed that it was not a coincidence. Rifling through the rest of the statements, Alex pointed out regular, monthly payments, all in the name of 'Angelo Heart', since October of the previous year. "Reckon we've got our 'Angel' then Bols?" Gene asked quietly, eyes scanning the statement briefly; there were £50 instalments, also monthly, from Jeremy McKellen, and the look of disgust on Alex's face wasn't missed by Gene; he knew she was silently cursing the father who abandoned his child, then tried to pay her off to make up for that abandonment; unknown to Alex, Gene was keeping in his own bitter fury to the man who pawned off his child because he couldn't handle it himself... But it was she that was shaking in anger, and, without more than a glance, he took the paper from her fingers, placing that, and the diaries, on the desk, before turning her body to face his, hands on her shoulders.

"Stop your belly-aching you daft tart; we'll get you back an' I'll make us a cuppa, 'ow's that?"

Alex sniffed, nodding, "yes... of course... I'll start looking for this 'Angelo', see if we've got him on file or anything... and I'll get in touch with the bank, see if they can give us any more information before we do anything else... and maybe I'll-"

Gene placed his hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised. "You could talk for England you posh-knickered nut; just tell me when you're done, 'ey?"

She nodded, pulling away from him and picking up the diaries and bank statements. "Let's go, shall we?"

Gene answered with a short nod, turning to leave, only to find her hand sliding into his once again. A brief squeeze, and he led her from the room, opening the door and checking the landing; Amanda wasn't there. He opened it wider, motioning for Alex to hand him the diaries and tucking them under his armpit in the depths of his overcoat; somehow he didn't think Amanda would like them sniping through her daughters' diary... Alex didn't even question the ethical issues of his actions, simply following as he kept his other arm pinned to his side, deceptively putting his hand in his pocket so that the discrepancy was less obvious, arm tensed tight as he led her down the stairs.

Amanda must have heard them, as she appeared at the door to the living room, and, to Alex's disappointment, Gene dropped her hand, placing his own hands in his pockets as he spoke, assured and certain. Alex remained behind him, hiding her slight pang of pain behind an impassive mask. "Tar, love- Mrs McKellen, I mean," he corrected himself. "Think we learnt enough for now- we'll be in touch, 'ey? Make sure you ain't by yerself too much; get some mates round, 'ave a ladies night, an' if you need anythin', give us a bell."

"One last question," Alex said, stepping forward without a glance at Gene. "Where's your husband, Mrs McKellen?"

Amanda sighed, opening the front door. "He's away on work, I'm afraid - Tunisia." She looked sad as she said, "he'll be gone for two weeks more at least."

Alex nodded, "thank you."

---

In the Quattro, Alex looked out the window as she spoke, "do you believe her husband's away on work?" Gene turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the drive before answering, eyes remaining permanently fixed on the stretch of road ahead of him in order for him to avoid seeing the look of accusation in Alex's eyes, and to prevent the formation of any more ill-founded theories, he answered her.

"Shaz rang 'is 'ouse after we saw Amanda the first time- answer phone said he was. Can't really accuse him of anything though Bols, so don't start with your-"

"But do you believe it?" Alex implored, interrupting him, her voice insistent.

Gene shrugged, flicking his indicator and swerving sharply round the corner as he said, "ain't for me to say, is it? When an' if 'e gets 'ome, we can pay him a little visit- if he don't come back, then maybe we'll 'ave reason to think differently."

Alex sat thoughtfully, chewing her lip before she started to spill her thoughts out loud; Gene remained quiet, privately immune to her self-directed ramblings by now. "It seems a little coincidental, don't you think? A father who can't stand his daughters state of illness, who sends monthly money packages to her even though he didn't want anything to do with her, suddenly disappears from the country the week his daughter turns up dead- ever so slightly convenient, don't you think?"

Sighing, Gene pressed down on the accelerator, "depends on 'is job, dunnit? Could be a normal thing for 'im, Bols. An' right now, the only person I'm interested in is this Angelo Heart."

Knowing there was no point pressing the issue, Alex conceded, sitting back in her seat and eyeing him carefully. His gloved hands adjusted the gears skilfully, gripped the steering wheel with assured ease, fingers tapping out a rhythm as they seemed to cruise – though at a slightly faster speed than 'cruising', she though– down the London roads. His mouth was set in his customary pout, eyes slightly crinkled at the edges, as though he were lost in thought, cogs turning beneath that head of soft blonde hair... She tore her eyes away, looking instead at the radio, tuning it in and listening as The Police sang 'Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic'. She watched in amusement as Gene creased his brow, frowning at the wheel before twisting the tuner into another station; Dexy's Midnight Runners sang 'Geno' and, with a grin, he cranked it up to full volume, throwing Alex a look of utter self-importance as she rolled her eyes.

"Typical," she muttered, as the song reverberated through her ears, joined moments later by Gene's accompanying gruff recital of the lyrics, his beat on the steering wheel suddenly more assured and happy. She wondered if he did this often, singing along with songs as though he hadn't a care in the world... somehow she knew he didn't, and she was privileged to have been allowed this rare insight into his other life; the life outside of CID, where maybe he did listen to music, cook, read novels, have Sunday afternoon naps, think about having children and... Oh Christ, she thought, snap out of it!

"Oh-oh-oh-Geno-o!" Gene's voice was by no means pleasing to the ears; it was grating and gruff, but it held a note of freedom she didn't think she'd ever heard before. As she watched him, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, eyes aglow. "Can't beat a bit o' Geno, Bollykecks."

She laughed, raising her voice to be heard above the music, "Oh I don't know, Gene; there's alot to be said for a bit of Bolly!" Her eyes danced, equally as suggestively, never for a moment straying from his, and she felt a pool of warmth gathering in her stomach, stretching out to touch her toes, warming her whole insides...

His eyes trailed over her figure appraisingly, resting on her breasts, cleavage evident to his eye as a result of the low cut blouse she'd donned that morning; it was thin and sheer, making evident the colour of her pale blue bra... his eyes moved down her legs, encased in those tight blue jeans he just wanted to tear off her at any opportunity. "Yeah, Bols," he growled, looking back at the road and swerving to a halt outside CID, "there is."

---

Gene gave Shaz the job of trawling through Rosa's diaries, explaining that he, Ray and Chris were unsuited to the job, and that Alex was following up other leads in the investigation; it wasn't exactly a lie, but he knew that Shaz, Ray and Chris all knew Alex's fragile emotional state when it came to the case and, as he'd hoped, Shaz accepted the task willingly, quickly settling down to scan the diaries for anything of importance.

Alex, meanwhile, trawled through records for any signs of Angelo Heart; they drew a blank. "There's an Angela Llewellyn, and an Angelica Partridge," she reported to Gene, placing two files down. "Llewellyn came in a year or two ago with a shoplifting charge. Partridge was sent down for assault and is serving five years in young offenders; there's no Angelo's within twenty miles, and the name 'Heart' is pretty common. There are five households in our radius, but none of them have anyone called Angelo, Angela, Angelica or anything close. Best we have is an Alicia Heart, who's seventy years old and disabled."

"Bollucks!" Gene growled – he was pretty sure a seventy year old pensioner couldn't run around killing people by night. "Any other Angelo's anywhere?"

"Only one in ten years, but he passed away five years ago; it's not a common name, Gene. It's probably a code for something else, a symbol, something that whoever it is thought up in order to hide their own identity and make her feel better..." Alex trailed off as Gene put his feet up on his desk, lighting up a cigarette and frowning.

"What kinda bloke makes up a fake name to get on good terms with a teenager, Bolly? Don' see it, meself."

"She was religious," Alex said, leaning on the desk in front of him, not in her usual argumentative manner, more in order to stop herself sagging. "Religious, terminally ill- and then suddenly an Angel appears; he's got the name, he makes her feel good about herself... who can blame her for believing it? And suddenly he's the most important thing in her life, the most intricate thread of hope she's got, and she's relying on him, believing in him... and he convinces her that he knows how she feels, that he can help, and suddenly there's someone other than Benji, other than Joe, other than Amanda; someone who understands, Gene. Don't you see, Gene? She_ wanted_ an Angel- and there he was!"

"If you're sayin' this Angel bloke was just some twonk who killed 'er 'cause she asked 'im to, I'm not sayin' anything more; I don' wan' another fight about bloody suicidal pish-posh. We'll talk about it later; just got a call though from forensics, anyway. Want us to go down, Bronson's got some more news." He stood up, shrugging his overcoat on and motioning towards the door. "Come on, get your coat. An' bring the lads an' all; don' think I can 'andle all your talk on me own."

---

Bronson gave the four of them a small smile as they entered the room, motioning them over to the table he was working at, pointing to several Petri dishes and the murder weapon, all of which were covered over to stop any contamination. Alex looked at the knife, feeling her stomach churn with sickness, but that was nothing compared to the reaction she felt in her guts when her eyes fell on a small sample of flesh, also covered up, that she had never seen before. She felt Ray and Chris glance over at her, saw Gene's shoulders stiffen out of the corner of her eye, and she knew suddenly that this was what Ray had asked her to stay away from in the warehouse. She covered her mouth, swallowing back a mouthful of vomit and counting slowly to fifty, eyes tightly shut. She longed to be somewhere –anywhere- else, but knew that was out of the question; she had to face the investigation head on, for Rosa, for Amanda, for Molly... for Gene. Alex opened her eyes, just as Bronson began to speak.

"We got the knife dusted," he said, eyes passing over the whole group of them before settling firmly on Gene, who stood with his face impassive, arms crossed over his chest silently. "Only one set of prints; they're hers. But there were leather fibres caught in the weapon, too," he pointed to the burnt plastic handle, with significant ridges and bubbles present, the result of burning or melting plastic.. "Some of her prints have been smudged out by something else as well - probably a leather glove, if the fibres are anything to go by." He pointed to the flesh next, and Alex flinched, instantly finding herself looking away as he continued. "It matches hers, but there are traces of someone else's blood on there, too; different type."

Gene nodded, glancing over at Alex worriedly, before speaking up again, "any idea whose?"

Bronson shook his head. "Doesn't match with Bragden's or Ellison's – could be anyone's. Might be another victim, might just be a remnant of a kitchen injury that was never fully cleaned off,. It's hard to tell." He motioned for them to follow him, leading them to a desk overflowing with documents and selecting a file from the top of the pile, opening it and scanning the contents. "Confirmed the anorexia, also got hold of her medical records; congratulations, DI Drake, you were right about the F.O.P or whatever you called it..." he tried to give her a warm smile but, given the situation, it wasn't completely reassuring. He sighed, then went on. "Body shows sign of recent sexual activity; gentle, doesn't look forced, no brutality, no bleeding... A few love bites along her pelvis, but other than that, nothing odd-"

"Not too religious then, 'ey Guv," Ray said jokingly. Both Alex and Gene glared at him and he stopped, looking back at Bronson apologetically.

Bronson rolled his eyes and continued, "No fibre's caught beneath her nails; can only assume the gloves weren't hers." He shut the file and looked towards Gene again. "Blade fits with the injuries as well. I'd say it's an open-and-closed murder case."

Gene looked thoughtful. Ray and Chris remained quiet, absorbing the information. Alex hesitated, and then said, "may I see her records? Do you have a copy?"

Bronson nodded, reaching into another file and extracting a photocopy. "All ready for your perusal DI Drake, thought you might be interested, though wouldn't know why."

Alex smiled half-heartedly, eyes scanning the paper and falling on the next of kin; Amanda McKellen. Her heart sank as she saw there were no other person's details. Gene looked at her expectantly, but Alex only shook her head, still scanning the page. "History of counselling for her anorexia," she murmured, "is it possible to get hold of this counsellors details, do you think?" she looked expectantly up at Bronson, who shrugged in a non-committal manner, face set in a thoughtful frown as he looked at her.

"Shouldn't be too difficult, the hospital should probably have them to hand. Though I doubt he'll be able to tell you much; as you can see DI Drake, she was discharged from the counsellor almost a year ago. Don't think there'll be much there you won't have heard before from her mother."

Alex nodded, "yes, thank you. Can I keep this?"

Bronson shrugged, "course Ma'am."

---

"So Bragden wasn't all talk then," Gene mused, smoking a cigarette as he spoke, feet up on his desk, exhaling a large cloud of smoke in Alex's general direction.

"How so?" Alex asked, distractedly looking over the medical records for what felt like the tenth time in an hour.

"Well, 'e said they 'ad a bit of the old heave-ho," there was no humour in his voice, and Alex knew he was battling with the evidence and what his own head was telling him. "An' this 'Angel' bloke might even be real... Don' wanna let 'im out though Bols... don' trust 'im."

Alex nodded, eyes downcast as she murmured, " but as it is, we haven't got enough evidence to charge him, or Ellison, and we've kept them longer than we should have done already."

Gene nodded, face set in a grim expression. "Don' like it, Bols. Thought of the two of 'em walkin' round free... makes my stomach ache..." He reached for his tumbler of whiskey, gulping it down angrily.

"I know," she said tiredly, "but we could be housing two harmless innocents instead of looking for the real killer; we can't lock everyone who may or may not have any relation to the case in a two by four cell until we're certain, can we?"

Gene looked as though he were thoroughly considering it. "Well it might-"

"No, Gene," she said, with just a hint of amusement. "We can't."

He sighed. "Alrigh'. I'll get Skipper to let 'em out... with an 'arsh warning, mind."

"I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Gene," she grinned. "Can I use the phone?"

"Depends; not ringin' the Indian again are you?" Gene's voice was playful and Alex rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't on my agenda, no. I was going to ring the hospital to arrange an appointment and collect this counsellors details?"

Gene frowned, "jus' get 'em to give it you over the phone, Bollykecks. Save you some time... no point going down there an' botherin' 'em when you could just ask like the nice little bird you are." He winked across at her.

"They can't just give them out left, right and centre," she replied, ignoring his suggestive wink as she walked towards the phone, "they don't know who might be ringing up; it could be anyone, and how are they to know if the person at the other end is genuine or just a complete stalker?" Alex sighed, then added, in a soft undertone that was difficult to hear, "besides, I need the distraction."

Gene nodded slowly. "Guess you're right, Bols... You and your pert, privately educated arse seem to 'ave the knack for outsmarting the Gene Genie... I'll put you right someday though, 'ey Bollykecks?" He threw her another flirtatious wink, and then stood up. "Right. Fancy a brew, posh-knickers?"

When she nodded distractedly, Gene walked round the desk, slapping a large hand briefly to her behind on his way out of the office; she looked round instantly, unnecessarily hiding her smirk of amusement, since he was already out of the door, disappearing to the kitchen. And though she couldn't see it, she knew he was sporting a grin that split his face in two.

---

**Mage of the Heart**


	9. Fairytale Muse

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

Shaz walked into the office next morning looking thoroughly bedraggled, as though she'd hardly slept, but with a small, determined smile on her lips that told Gene all he needed to know. Without a word, he stood up, opening the door and motioning for Alex to join them in the privacy of Gene's office. When she'd sashayed past him, in another pair of ridiculously tight jeans, and an off-the-shoulder top that seemed to live simply to tease him, displaying her black bra strap plainly for the world to see, he'd closed the door and looked at Shaz expectantly.

"I looked through the diaries, Guv," she started, then nodding to Alex, "and Ma'am... the first ones real sad, doesn't say much other than 'ow horrible them lumps was. Couple of arguments with that Benji, and how she wishes she didn't get the money off her Dad... but to be honest, Guv, it's just... depressing, really. Nothing about her religion or an angel or anything... she's just sad."

Gene nodded, as did Alex, both of them now resting their behinds on Gene's desk, him with arms crossed over his chest, her with her hands at either side, resting on the wooden ledge on either side of her hips. "What about the second one?" Alex asked, throat slightly tight as she wondered if she really wanted to know.

Shaz shrugged, flicking open the pink diary and pulling out a page of notes she had written efficiently, each bullet point matched with a post-it note which was attached to the appropriate page. Gene attempted not to show how impressed he was, but he couldn't help the appreciative eyebrow raise as she spoke. "Not alot to begin with... more of the same really; new lumps, new fights... nothing much until end of September... twenty-fifth..." She efficiently flipped to the appropriate page, holding it out to her superiors to show them.

Gene looked at Alex, whose immediate reaction was to move slightly backwards, away from the offending diary, and, with a shake of his head, Gene murmured, "you read it, Granger. Save us some time..."

Shaz looked taken aback, glancing from one to the other of them before nodding, flushing slightly red as she looked down at the page... she paused, glancing up at Gene and asking nervously, "with the date and everything?"

He nodded, hiding his amusement by pretending to stifle a yawn. "Yer, Granger. Come on, we ain't got all day."

And though his tone was full of playfulness, Shaz nodded nervously, as though being scrutinized, her eyes immediately falling back to the page as she began to speak, voice slightly quavering as she said, "Twenty-fifth of September... He is beautiful..." she paused, and then went on.

"He is perfect. He is warm. Like a summer sunset. He is wonderful... I..." she glanced at them nervously and, at Alex's encouraging nod, she went on. "I feel as though he can save me. As though God is watching over me, looking after me... He is my saviour; only he understands."

Shaz looked up to find Gene's mouth set in a thin line, Alex looking determinedly at the floor. "Then there's more like that until November... doesn't mention Benji, her Mam, her Dad, that Joe... just _Him_..."

Alex nodded. "Then what?"

Shaz looked at Gene, searching for his approval before flicking to the next marked page and speaking again. "November nineteenth... He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee: And in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest any time though dash thy foot against a stone." She frowned, "I don't understand it, Ma'am, but it's not her words, so I thought it might be important?"

With a nod, Alex murmured, "Luke, Chapter four, verses ten and eleven."

Gene blinked, looking at her in shock. "Bleedin' 'eck, Bols, you a nun?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "No. We had to write an essay on it for religious studies when I was fifteen," with a smug grin, she added, "and I got an A."

With a sigh he muttered, "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Because I, Gene Hunt, am the epitome of perfection," with a quick grin in his direction, she looked back to Shaz. "Does she say anything else in that entry, Shaz?"

Shaz nodded, "only, 'he is my Angel', Ma'am."

Without a word, Gene plucked both diaries from Shaz's grip, jerking his thumb towards the door. "Right, we'll look at this balls later. Bols, we going?"

Alex blinked, then nodded back at him, looking apologetically at Shaz, who shrugged and made to leave. As her hand reached the door handle, Gene said, "and Granger?"

Turning to meet his blue eyes she asked, "Yes, Guv?"

"Good work."

With a clearing of his throat, he turned around and slipped the diaries in his overflowing in-tray. By the time he turned around, Shaz had already left the office, and he'd missed the small smile on her face that told Alex it was rare praise.

---

It was a half-hour drive to the counsellors' offices, even with Gene's reckless driving, and they spent it in the companionable silence they had grown easily accustomed to over the past few days. The night before, they'd shared it again, having both gotten pleasantly tipsy on her sofa, ending up watching the evening news through a hilariously drunken haze, giggling like teenagers at the presenters accent and finally stumbling and swaying towards the bedroom, collapsing on the bed in a laughing heap and falling asleep with Gene lying comfortably over her, arm tucked around her waist with his face buried in her hair. He'd woken up and excused himself to the bathroom before she stirred, relieving himself of the inevitable 'morning glory' before slipping into the living room and picking up the throw from the sofa, then settling back into the bed and tucking the warm blanket around them both in order to stop the chill of the air as it caused goose bumps to spread over his arms. When he woke up later, she'd been slipping out of bed, and he'd watched her go with a deep sensation of loss building in his stomach.

Now, sitting across from her, watching from the corner of his eye as she rolled the window down, he came to find himself, not for the first time, inwardly debating the complex array of emotions that bubbled away in the acidic pit of his stomach every time she walked into the room. He wanted her, of that he was certain; he knew it every time she shook that stupidly attractive arse around the office, every time she looked at him with those deep hazel eyes, every time she licked her lips and got his brain into overdrive at the thought of what they could do to him... oh, he wanted them red ruby lips, he wanted her arse, wanted her eyes, wanted _her_... But 'want' was the last thing on his mind as she stretched out, holding her hand out of the window and allowing the cool breeze to pass through her fingertips.

The fact was, whilst he'd denied to her and, momentarily, to himself, that he wanted anything more than friendship, waking up with her for the last three mornings had seemed to fill a gaping hole in the life he had led for five very long years, and he could see himself filling that gap with her tender body held to his for the rest of eternity. He hadn't woken up with a woman in his arms for so long that it felt alien, in some ways, when her arms enveloped him, or when her head rested gently on his shoulder, on his chest... In the last three years of his marriage, he'd slept most nights on the sofa and, when he occasionally stumbled into the bedroom, it was to lay a good metre from his unwilling wife, facing the wall away from her and falling asleep to dreams of other women, other beds...

With Alex, it felt different; even without sex, without that physicality he had always been reliant on, there was no need to dream of anyone else, and although several times he had convinced himself that it was a result of not having slaked his lust for her, he didn't think he could ever look at another woman in the same way again. He'd been in lust before; he knew what it was like for a woman to possess his mind and body constantly, but this was different; the raw, passionate, carnal desires all existed, but they burnt at the heart of a fire that was built up of so much more, of things that were practically incomprehensible, but that made his relationship with Alex seem more important than anything else, placing her on a pedestal he could never hope to clamber up to, but sincerely longed for all the same.

He wasn't one for fairytales, but it felt as though she were bloody Rapunzel, locked in a tower, and he was Prince Charming... well, maybe not Prince Charming, but Prince of Witticisms and Flirtation at the very least.

It was like he could never reach her -as though she were trapped away in her own little tower, and, unless she threw down her hair and helped him up - which was about as likely as him leaping onto a dragons back and proclaiming he had never drank alcohol, never smoked, and never engaged in sexual activity, and so, in retrospect, not likely, at all- he would be stranded at the base of her tower; a sad imitation of a man, a man now so lost in love that he was rendered useless, staying at the base of a steep, solid brick wall that he would never be able to overcome, just for the sight of that beautiful face as it peered out of the window...

"It's like Shrek," Alex murmured, and Gene snapped out of his reverie to see her staring dreamily out of the window.

"'ey?" He asked, making no effort to hide his confusion, "who or what the bloody 'ell is Shrek?" she blinked and looked towards him as though shocked to find him there.

"Sorry?" She said, blinking repeatedly and shaking her head. "Did you say something?"

"What the bloody 'ell is Shrek?"

Alex stared, then flushed bright red, turning her face towards the window and cringing. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah, now what the bloody-?"

"It's a... fairytale, Gene... about an ogre."

For a moment Gene frowned, half hopeful to begin with that the fairytale she was thinking about involved him being the main character... when she said ogre, he strongly hoped otherwise. He glanced over at her, seeing the pink tinge to her ears, and felt inexplicable intrigue. Quirking his lip upwards at the corner, trying to sound casual without showing he was actually interested, he asked, "so what 'appen's then?"

Alex flushed, keeping her face turned towards the window as though to hide her features, but out of the corner of his eye Gene could see the slight dimple in her cheeks and the flash of teeth as she smiled. "Shrek's _not_ a very nice ogre to begin with," Alex started, voice almost teasing, as though she were talking to Molly... but even a twelve year old would have told her to stop that voice, which was a fact not lost on Gene. "He's violent and brash, and _he_ doesn't_ like_ the fairytale creatures that show up in his swamp, so he goes to see the _nasty_ Lord Farquod, who tells him to go and save the Princess from the _fiery keep of the dragon_! And so he does, and he takes Donkey with him and-" She emphasised certain words, adding an extra twang of patronisation that made his fingers grip the wheels slightly tighter to stop from snapping at her – because he was, actually, quite interested.

"What? An ogre and a donkey?" Gene frowned. "You're a bloody daft tart!"

"Let me finish, Gene," she said overly calmly, that patronisation still edging through and causing him to shudder in annoyance, "it's a fairytale – anything can happen! As I was saying- he takes Donkey with him, and they save her, and they escape, and she, naturally expects him to kiss her, to sweep her away and marry her... only he doesn't, and so he takes her back to Farquod, and she decides it's for the best that they remain apart as he obviously doesn't want her. But Shrek doesn't know that actually, she's an ogre too, and she's just _waiting_ for him to kiss her so that they can be together, because only loves first kiss will stop the evil witches enchantment and-"

It was at this time that Gene snorted in laughter, jabbing at the radio and rolling his eyes. "Never 'eard of it, Bols. Come on, we're 'ere now. An' don't be telling no nancy bollucks fairy stories, you daft cow."

----

She followed him up the stairs towards the counsellors' office, noting with startling annoyance the way the secretary gave Gene a quick and assessing once over and allowed her gaze to follow him as the two officers seated themselves on the comfortable leather sofa in the reception area. With a stark, shocking wave of jealousy, Alex sat herself down beside Gene, who had seated himself heavily down without care, and slid slightly closer to him than could be considered strictly professional, crossing one leg over the other so that her toe gently brushed his calf, and their knees knocked together briefly. Gene didn't react, except to cast her a quick, questioning sideways glance. Suddenly embarrassed, Alex did her best to look nervous and fearful, but she could tell he wasn't fooled when he began to waggle his eyebrows suggestively and quirk his eyes in the direction of the receptionist. Flushing red, she turned her face away, glancing around for something to distract herself; unfortunately, the reception was not filled with magazines or newspapers, and so she settled for staring out of the large floor-to-ceiling window, into the slightly more modern architecture of eighties London.

Gene grinned, slipping his arm along the back of the sofa and leaning forward to whisper in her ear, breath hot on her skin as he murmured, "don' worry... I don' do blondes, Bolly." His fingers brushed her opposite shoulder as he pulled his hand away, both of their heads jerking around as the polished oak door to their left creaked open, swinging back on its hinges as a tall, bespectacled man stepped out, body swathed in a designer suit that flattered his overly slim physique to give the illusion of muscularity.

"Ah, DCI Hunt, I assume? And DI Drake?" He extended a hand to both of them in turn as they stood up, Alex noting how Gene's fingers began to clench and unclench, the bones cracking slightly as his discomfort and unfamiliarity with the type of witness and with the situation itself set in. "I'm Professor Buss."

Alex gasped. "David Buss?" She exclaimed, voice rising a pitch in excited recognition.

Professor Buss nodded, forehead creased in bewilderment as he murmured, "yes, my dear, now if we could just step inside and-"

"I read your paper on Sexual Selection!" Alex squeaked, eyes bright with excitement that Gene might have been amused at, had he not been busy choking on the mouthful of whiskey he had just thrown down his throat at the mention of 'sexual selection'. "It was so insightful- admittedly I find it hard to believe that men can really make such a crass, uninformed observation but it was so wonderfully presented that I-"

"My dear girl," Professor Buss said, rubbing his nose lightly, "I'm afraid you must be mistaking me for someone else; I have never looked into that particular field of study at all, now if you please step inside my office, we'll discuss the real reason for your visit!" With a withering look, he indicated that Gene and Alex enter ahead of him. Blushing, head down as she realized the enormity of her mistake- the research wasn't released until ninety-five- Alex headed in ahead of the two men. As Professor Buss closed the door, Gene sidled up behind her and whispered in her ear.

"Sexual selection, 'ey Bols?" With a grin he murmured, "wanna share wit' the class?"

Alex smirked, "maybe later."

Gene slid around so that he was beside her, turning his gaze on hers as he whispered, "'ope so, Bols." Eyes glittering he repeated, "I 'ope so."

---

Alex wasn't surprised with what Professor Buss had had to say; yes, Rosa had been anorexic and depressed. Yes, her condition did make her upset- wasn't that normal for a girl in her situation? And no, he hadn't heard anything about any Angels or other religious beings.

"One last question then," Alex said, glancing at the few notes she had scribbled down on her pad. "What was the situation of Rosa's discharge? Was her period of counselling up? Had she run out of money? Had she-"

"My dear lady," Buss sighed, "do you think I made the poor girl pay for everything on top of whatever else she had to deal with? My consultations were free, and the discharge took place in favourable circumstances."

"Which were what, exactly?" Alex implored, tapping her pen thoughtfully on her hand as she scanned her notes yet again.

"She was _better_, Miss Drake," he said with a shrug. "I can't put it any other way; one week she came in and she had the greatest smile I had ever seen on her face, and two months later she hadn't mentioned killing herself once. She was better, and she asked for discharge; I had no reason to keep her there."

Both Alex and Gene frowned. "Better?" Gene grunted in disbelief. "You're tellin' me the girl 'oo walked in an' told you 'ow she wan'ed to top 'erself for two years toddleed in one day, said she was 'appy and you_ believed _her? I ain't no bloody psychiatrist or nout, but isn' that pretty certainly a load of old dogs bollucks?"

Professor Buss sighed, "DCI Hunt, I do not question how you carry out your job, please, do not question mine."

"When was this discharge, Professor?" Alex asked, interjecting between the two as she could see Gene about to retort.

Turning to her, Buss pulled a file forward and checked something. "November eighteenth."

---

"Posh noncy bollucks," Gene growled as they got back into the Quattro. "Bloody tosser."

Rolling her eyes, Alex looked down at her notes, "she convinced a top-of-the -field Psychologist that she was happy, Gene. It's not an easy task. He's trained to notice things like that; body language, smile falsity, everything..." she shook her head. "She was happy. She must have been. He released her because when she was there she didn't _need _therapy."

"So what went wrong then?" Gene asked, hands on the wheel. "If she's 'appy, why'd she wind up dead?"

"Maybe she was happy because she knew there was someone to help her... to do it for her..." Alex frowned, eyebrows knitting together... "But then why did she ask Benji for help once she'd met this Angel?"

Gene said nothing.

---

The journey passed in silence, both of them lost in their own private thoughts; when they got back to the station, Alex filed her notes, and set to work on a small scale robbery that had taken place in her absence- the Rosa McKellen case went unmentioned for the rest of the day.

---

At eleven, the rest of the team dwindled away, leaving Gene and Alex sat comfortably in the corner, quietly nursing the second bottle of red of the night. Ten minutes into their solitude, Gene cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair and itching the back of his neck. Alex looked at him inquisitively, but did not question him, waiting, for him to say something. Eventually, as Alex poured them both another generous glass, Gene grunted, "so 'm I stayin'?"

Alex, grinning at his bluntness, shrugged. "If you like."

Frustrated, he lowered his voice to a soft growl, "I'll go 'ome if you don' need me 'ere Bols, I just though' I'd-"

"I don't need you here," Alex murmured, eyes fixated on the stillness of her wine as she paused a moment before whispering, "but I'd rather you stayed, anyway."

When she looked up, his eyes fixed hers with a penetrating gaze, and then, suddenly, he nodded, standing up and nodding towards the door that would lead them up to her flat, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "C'mon then, Bols," he yawned, "I'm knackered as a dead donkey."

Alex laughed, standing up and collecting another bottle from Luigi, who looked at the two of them like a child who had just been allowed to open his Christmas presents a day early. Under Gene's withering glare, he fell back into the shadow, cleaning glasses, though Alex was sure she could see his white teeth glinting in his smile as she glanced back at him.

In the corridor, she bumped her hand subtly –or at least, she thought so- against his. Gene snorted, catching her fingers in his hold before speaking. "You wanna 'old my 'and Bols, you don' need to do all this nancy 'bumpin'-'ands' tosh." His eyes trailed over her appreciatively as they started to ascend the stairs, "jus' grab me politely an' I'll let you 'ave your wicked way wit' me." With a smirk and a sly wink, he held a hand out for her key, hiding his amusement as she tried to work out where best to put the wine.

"Oh, take this," Alex said, pushing the bottle at him, pressing it into his chest insistently as she searched in vain for her keys, digging in her pockets with her free hand; Gene didn't bother to suggest that, maybe, just maybe, she would be more successful with both hands free. The fact was, he didn't want to drop her hand from his. Eventually, she procured it, with difficulty, from her back pocket, slipping it with difficulty into the lock before letting the both of them in, ignoring the snort of amusement that Gene let out as she flushed beet red.

Once inside, the door closed behind the pair of them, he turned to her, leaning back against the wall whilst continuing to hold her hand within his own, refusing to drop it as his eyes glistened with unmistakeable mischief. "Come on then Bols, spill."

"Spill?" Alex blinked, clearly confused.

Teasingly, Gene raised an eyebrow. "Sexual Selection; finally a psychiatry paper I can get to grips with." His eyes danced as she bit back the typical retort of 'psychology'; she knew full well that these days the only reason he called it 'psychiatry' was to annoy her and see her all roused and snappy.

At first he didn't noticed, and then he saw the way her annoyance transformed into a smirk, and was both terrified and elated as she pressed firmly against his shoulders, holding him against the wall as her body pressed close to his... he told himself insistently that it was no different to having her in the crook of his arm whilst they both slept... but when she was sleeping, he couldn't see the glint in her eye, nor did she wear tops that, on pressure from his chest, revealed enormous cleavage and voluptuous tits that made him want to nestle into her for eternity... what would that be like? He thought briefly, before snapping back to reality as she looked at him, smirking devilishly.

"Apparently, Gene," she whispered, hand running down his arm, "you're attracted to me more right now than at any other time... do you know why?"

Shit. He thought immediately. Who the fuck had she been talking to? Bloody hell, who had_ he_ been talking to? Nobody knew about his infatuation with her; nobody, not even his Mam, who knew pretty much every sodding little scrap of detail in his sad little old life, as a result of practically wringing it out of him during Sunday afternoon phone calls... He thought he'd been careful about his misplaced affection but apparently-

"Do you know why, Gene?" She murmured, face coming to a halt a few inches from his, eyes not leaving his own blue ones which were dazed with something Alex couldn't place her finger on.

"Jeans," he muttered with a shrug, tearing his gaze away to stare down at her legs. He tried to ignore the way the hand he still held squeezed briefly back at him, fighting down the bounding somersaults as he tried his best to appear nonchalant.

"No," she murmured, "guess again..."

Gene gulped, meeting her eyes again, "you pregnant, Bols? Bigger tit's 'un normal?"

With a small laugh, Alex, somehow, managed to step even closer, her hips pressing to his as she replied, "no... any other guesses?"

"'orny?" He asked, half-hopeful.

Another laugh, and this time, she decided, she'd put him out of his misery. Stepping closer, placing her warm mouth next to his ear, her breath sending heated tingles down his spine and towards his groin as she breathed, he murmured, "apparently, you want to fuck me, Gene, because I'm at my most fertile stage..." Her free hand was drifting lower, eyes glinting with wicked amusement as she saw his face transform from slight amusement, tinged with arousal, to fully-fledged horror and wonderment; she wasn't surprised when his own hand darted out of nowhere to catch hers, pushing her away to arms length with horror.

"'ey?" He growled, "I don' give a flyin' furry fuck if you're bloody fertile, you daft plonk!"

Actually, the talk of menstrual cycles and fertility always made Gene Hunt rather squeamish, and he didn't think he'd ever be _less_ in the mood for sex than if he knew someone he was about to sleep with was fertile...

Alex grinned, slipping away and tugging gently on his hand. "Coming to bed, Gene?"

Yes, he thought, because there was no way in hell he'd get the chance to _really _sleep with her, so he didn't need to worry that the mention of fertility had driven away his erection like a pack of rabid hounds chasing a cat.

"Yeah Bols," he muttered, "just gunna get the glasses." He indicated the bottle of wine he'd placed on the floor next to the door, dropping her hand before slipping into the kitchen. Alex grinned, and made her way to bed.

**---**

**David Buss is an actual psychologist, who did research into Sexual Selection- the description of him here is not based on fact; if it were, he would be much better looking! Surprisingly so, in fact! **

**Hope you enjoyed this; reviews loved and welcomed, as always :)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	10. Fainthearted Father

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

It was Sunday the next day, and neither of them was on shift. Alex tended to spend most Sunday mornings curled up in bed with a cup of coffee, waking at the ghastly hour of seven-thirty that she'd become accustomed to and simply burrowing herself beneath the duvet. Today, she slept long past that mark, waking at half twelve to the warmth of Gene's body beside hers, his fingers tracing down her spine as they lay there. She assumed he thought she was asleep, and decided not to demonstrate otherwise, keeping her eyes closed and savouring the gentle sensation of his touch through the thin cotton of her baggy t-shirt. All she did was lay there, arm sliding across his stomach, nestling her face in his chest and keeping her breathing steady as she listened to the soft grate of his breath. It surprised her briefly how his lungs had not yet caved under the mass of nicotine he inhaled, and how quiet his gentle breath was in the lull of the silent flat. A brief smile flitted across her lips as the hand nearest to her now outstretched arm intertwined it's fingers with hers, a sigh of contentment leaving both sets of lips, which neither of them paid any attention to. Still smiling, Alex drifted back to sleep; she wasn't tired, but she was perfectly happy to lay here with Gene for the rest of the day.

---

When Alex awoke next, she was alone. A brief moment of panic and abandonment took hold, causing her to jerk upright and look around in fear. She settled immediately when she heard the quiet gruffness of Gene's voice in the next room; without thinking, she slipped from the bed, not bothering to don her dressing gown and pattering through to the living room in just her long t-shirt and knickers. She let a small smile tease across her lips as she saw him, clothes rumpled with sleep, hair askew, bent over with his head in one hand, the phone to his ear as he spoke in a soft, yet still typically gruff manner.

"No Mam, I ain't seein' 'er..." a pause and then, "because she asked me to yer plum!" Had he been talking to Alex, she was quite certain his voice would have raised in stark intonation at that moment, but as it was, he seemed almost amused. With a grin, Alex tip-toed towards him, sliding herself over the armrest and into the chair beside Gene, offering him a small smile as she curled her legs beneath her body and he glanced at her briefly. His eyes widened slightly as he caught a brief glimpse of the lacy red material between her legs, but he soon tore his gaze away, reciprocating the greeting with a soft nod before turning back to the phone. "Yes Mam, I know-" Alex was certain she caught him blushing as he cast a sideways glance towards her, then away again, "-I know she migh' be savin' 'erself fer marriage."

Alex couldn't help the giggle that left her throat, and didn't even wither when he glanced at her in warning. Instead, she slipped closer, placing her head on his shoulder and grinning as she now eavesdropped on both ends of the conversation, pretending not to notice the sudden tension of his back muscles.

"-don't think I'm too ol' fashioned to know what you young 'uns get up to, Gene!" Alex was pleasantly surprised to hear that same accent she had grown to love in Gene speaking in such a soft, gentle voice, and smiled, one hand on Gene's shoulder as she listened in. "I'm sure she's not still a virgin at thirty but you're not to go forcin' yourself on 'er privacy! It's not proper; an' if she needs yer company 'cause she's worried it don' mean she wants no Mancunian copper fiddlin' about with 'er knickers!"

"Mam!" Gene groaned, burrowing his face deeper into his hands. "I ain't 'fiddlin' with 'er knickers' you daft cow, I'm jus'-"

It was at this moment that Alex pulled the phone away from Gene's hold, pressing it to her ear and sitting herself on the top of the sofa, grinning wickedly as Gene turned to her and motioned to have the phone back, with a small shake of the head she started talking. "Mrs Hunt?" She asked politely, "its Alex- Alex Drake?"

Frustratingly for Gene, he couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, and wasn't brave enough to place his head directly beside Alex's, for fear he'd end up ripping the phone from her hands, dropping it to the cradle and kissing the shit out of her... So he was forced to listen, nervously, to the one-sided conversation, knowing his mothers unpredictability and wondering what on earth she would say to the posh plonk who ripped the phone from her son's hands; He half hoped she'd demand to be put back onto Gene, but for some reason it seemed unlikely, especially once Alex started smiling and replying only too joyously. With a groan, he rested his head on the sofa cushion, wondering what exactly his mother was saying.

"Yes, yes we're very good friends..." a brief silence, but for the slight buzz that said Maddie Hunt was talking. Then, "no, no, he's been nothing but a gentleman; perfectly proper," she smirked at Gene briefly as she listened intently to the other end of the conversation. "Yes, we work together, did he not mention that?"

Gene groaned again, lifting his head and looking at her with pleading eyes, "Bols, please just-"

"I know that's unusual, Mrs Hunt," Alex said calmly. "Yes... yes I'm a DI- one rank beneath, can you believe it?"

"Look, Bolly, just gimme the phone an'-"

"It's very unusual indeed," Alex grinned, voice slightly louder, eyes dancing wickedly. "Oh no, our personal relationship has absolutely no impact on work- of course not."

Matter of opinion, Gene thought, but kept his mouth shut, hand stretched out for the phone.

"Oh he's quite satisfactory, yes, no need to worry- very hospitable man, absolutely-" At this point, Gene threw chivalry to the wind, grabbing Alex around the waist and yanking her down to his lap, snatching the phone back from her and holding her firmly down, hand pressing onto her back, ignoring her shrieks of protest as he spoke.

"Sorry, Mam, some posh plonk jus' stole me phone... she's me DI you lemon- course not... yes, Mam, I know... I'll ring you nex' week, Mam, promise..."

Another silence, longer this time, and though Alex couldn't hear Mrs Hunt's words from her position in Gene's lap, she could guess from his reply quite easily. "Yeah, Mam... you an' all... Take care, yer plum... bye."

The line went dead, and he dropped the phone back into its cradle with some difficulty, trying his best not to dislodge Alex. Looking down at her, he raised an eyebrow, "nice chat with me Mam then, 'ey Bols?"

With a mischievous wiggle of her hips, she nodded, smirking, "she seems a lovely enough woman- far too charming to bear the likes of you for nine months..." Wriggling upwards so that her chest was barely an inch from his, she grinned, leaning closer and murmuring, "Is your father a sailor, Gene?" At the mention of his father, Gene flinched, eyes darting to the floor, grip on Alex's waist tightening to an almost painful degree. Noticing her mistake, Alex sat back, hands on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said instantly. "I didn't know- I didn't think you'd mind... I didn't think- I was-"

"Don' matter, Bolly," he muttered. "Don' matter..." he stood up abruptly, dumping her back on the sofa with little ceremony. " Fancy a brew?"

---

Alex didn't dig for information about Gene's father; she didn't mention it for the rest of the afternoon, and over the next two weeks, it remained forgotten. The McKellen case remained high priority, but with few leads, they found themselves simply trawling through diary entries, hoping in vain that something of merit would suddenly reveal itself to them; it didn't. They spent endless hours holed up in Gene's office, poring over each diary entry with metaphorical magnifying glasses, analyzing every word and trying to find some detail they had missed; it didn't come. They were still bitterly heart wrenching, and it wasn't even becoming necessary for Gene to ask whether she wanted him to stay; a glance at her as the rest of the team moved to leave told him all he needed. In two and a half weeks, Gene had barely spent more than twenty minutes at a time in his own house.

_Her_ flat was slowly becoming '_their_' flat; it was unspoken and ignored, but slowly he was adopting parts of the flat as his own. He'd selected his own mug , in the blue of Manchester City, slightly chipped but perfect in size and shape; she, meanwhile, made it perfectly clear that the nice china ones, covered in pretty patterns, were to remain untouched by man, and he made no objections. Her bathroom cupboard was slowly gaining more and more male products; shaving creams, balms, spare razor blades, a plain blue hair comb. His toothbrush stood beside hers in the handle-less mug that was set on her sink, blue next to the delicate pink of her own.

His suits were slowly all being transported to her flat one-by-one, hanging almost domestically beside her jackets and blouses in the wardrobe as though making a silent declaration that yes, this was a permanent move. She'd cleared a drawer of her own rubbish and allowed him to place his more casual clothes –jeans, rugby shirts, tracksuits, - in it.

It was slowly becoming a joint home, and much as it should terrify them, it was a welcome difference to the lives they had left before, a great comfort at the end of the day when they both needed –though Gene would not admit it out loud- the presence of another.

Two weeks later, on the Monday afternoon, Alex walked into the office with a determined look on her face and Gene raised an eyebrow. "Oh dear Lord," he murmured jokingly, "the devil hails blessings on me; what you done you daft plonk?"

"Nothing," Alex said quickly, "McKellen's back."

"'ey?" Gene asked, distractedly picking through a pile of papers. "Bols, no disrespect but, McKellen's pretty much copped it a' this point."

"Not Rosa, Guv," she said, evidently irritated. "Jeremy McKellen. He got yesterday's plane back from Tunisia, arrived home at ten last night... we have to go and speak to him."

Gene frowned, "'ow'd you find tha' out?"

"Shaz has been ringing his house everyday for the last two weeks and getting his answer phone; he answered this morning. I checked with the airport- Jeremy McKellen was on board the last flight from Tunisia and arrived back in this country at seven last night. Neighbours reported that he arrived back at ten o'clock."

"You've talked to 'is neighbours?"

"Yes."

"An' you didn' think to tell me 'bout it?"

Alex flinched, "no... I didn't think it was that important."

"I'm your Superior officer, Drake," he growled. "You don' go pokin' round without tellin' me wha' you're playin' at!"

"I'm a DI, Gene," she snapped back, "I can run a small side investigation without having to alert you to the smallest details and advancements and-"

"You get yourself in trouble Bols, then wha? You forgot Chaz Kale? Forgot that bloody freezer? 'Cause I ain't a bloody psychic Bolly, an' I can' bloody find yer if I don' know where the 'ell you've buggered off to!" He'd pushed away from his desk and stood up, lighting a cigarette and cracking the knuckles on his other hand. Alex wanted to shout, but the sudden protectiveness shocked her into silence. "I ain't a bloody 'ero Bols. Can't just pop up outta nowhere and save yer bloody skin all the time!"

"Gene, I'm not stupid!" She said softly, "I told you as soon as anything worthwhile showed up didn't I?"

Gene clenched his jaw, turning to her and drawing on his cigarette, eyes never leaving hers. There was a moment of complete silence, in which neither of them uttered a word, before he muttered, "I know you ain't stupid, Bols..." he turned his face away, focusing on a darts trophy that rested on his chest of drawers and trying to block out the sudden protective rush that rose in his chest.

He remembered in an instant the fear that had gripped his stomach when he thought she'd died in that freezer; the rage, the worry, the hatred... His hand clenched and bones cracked; he knew it wasn't right to get so enraged- she'd told him, she was here, in his office, telling him what she'd done and not acting on it without his permission... but the fact was, he was worried about her, and it was worse now he was spending nearly every waking moment in her presence- any moment she wasn't with him, he was worried she'd fall and hit her head, or walk in front of a bus and die, and now, to find out that she was hiding this –though apparently small- side investigation, it unnerved him more than it should. Because he knew she wasn't stupid enough to do anything like that again, but it didn't change the fact that the thought of her winding up dead churned his stomach like a bloody cement mixer.

A moment later, she was in front of him, hazel eyes boring into the side of his face until he turned to meet her gaze. "I can look after myself, Gene... are you coming with me, or shall I take Ray?"

Gene stubbed his cigarette out and shook his head. "I'm comin', Bols. Come on."

---

If Amanda McKellen was beautiful, then her husband was exquisite. In perfect contrast to the woman he married, he was darker in skin colour, hair jet black and eyes a dazzling green that spoke power and control. When Jeremy McKellen opened the door, Alex felt her breath catch; when Jeremy McKellen opened the door, Gene wanted to rip his pretty-boy head from his shoulders.

Whilst Amanda's age had begun to take its toll, a result, presumably, of having to raise a terminally ill child alone, leaving crow's feet and wrinkles over her face, Jeremy was the picture of youth; his skin remained unblemished by age, his physique kept perfectly trim, his hair styled in a meticulous yet casual way that would turn heads of women of all ages. His white teeth glimmered to perfection, and his neatly pressed suit sat on his frame with a pristine air of a man who kept himself well and truly looked after.

"Jeremy McKellen?" Gene growled, flashing his police badge. "We're 'ere to ask you a few questions 'bout yer daughter, Rosa."

There was a moment when Alex could have sworn he was going to turn them away, clearly angered by the brashness of Gene's tone, but then he stepped aside, holding the door open for them and looking Alex over appreciatively; it didn't go unnoticed by either of them, and as Alex stepped over the threshold, Gene leant in to whisper in Alex's ear, hand lingering slightly lower on her hip than was strictly necessary. "If 'e pisses you off, Bols, I'm more'n 'appy to wring 'is neck." She smiled, eyes passing over Jeremy slowly before she twisted her head so that her lips were nearly touching Gene's ear, her hand resting tenderly on his arm.

"I'll be sure to let you know, but for now we do need to talk to him..." Her breath on his skin was teasing and he had to close his eyes before responding, lips tenderly brushing the shell of her ear.

"Mmm... you might be right," he murmured, "if he annoys you Bols, bump me 'and... I know 'ow much you love to do that."

With that he pulled away, hand dropping from her waist as he turned to McKellen, eyes hardening as he looked at the younger man. "Right," he growled. "Where's my brew an' biscuit?"

---

"When's the last time you saw yer daughter?" Gene asked, slumping into the cushions of the soft brown sofa without invitation, eyes never leaving Jeremy's.

In reply, Jeremy shrugged, sitting himself in the armchair opposite and crossing one ankle over his knee. "About five years, I imagine... I didn't have much to do with her."

"Sad to 'ear she died then, were yer?" The coldness in Gene's voice caused Alex to blink, glancing at him and seeing, with confusion, the first simmering of rage behind her DCI's eyes. Jeremy, too, appeared unnerved, but spoke calmly enough.

"I can't say I was happy, if that's what you're getting at." His green eyes didn't leave Gene's, and Alex took a moment to glance from one man to the other; each was clearly hiding depths of feeling, but she couldn't tell what, and that frustrated her more than she would admit. Gene's bitterness, his seemingly irrational anger, was unnerving, but Jeremy's cold, apparently apathetic response to his daughters death, turned her stomach.

"Why'd you leave 'er?" Gene said gruffly. Jeremy sighed.

"I couldn't cope with it; do you have children, Detective Chief Inspector?" The silence was answer enough, and he carried on, "no. Well imagine then, that you do; your pride and joy, so to speak, is the small child that was once small enough to hold in one arm. Imagine also, that they're born normal, like any other, and a few years in you have to deal with them developing a hideous disfigurement that will end with them dying slowly and painfully; can you stand by and watch that, knowing every day for the next however many years you'll be fearing them running back down the stairs and telling you they've got another one, another lump? Can you handle _that_, DCI Hunt?"

"If I was gunna bugger off and leave, I sure as 'ell wouldn' stick abou' in the same town just to get me kicks from the Missus!" Gene's voice was low, dangerous, gravelly and unnerving, and all Alex wanted was to reach over and touch his hand... instead, she looked at Jeremy McKellen and spoke.

"What's your relationship with Rosa's mother, Mr McKellen? Do you still speak to her?"

Shifting slightly in his chair, Jeremy said, "we see each other now and then... she is my wife, after all."

"That don' mean jack shit and yer know it," Gene growled. "Are you still shaggin' 'er?"

Jeremy drew breath, eyes closed as he spoke. "I was... we were still 'together'-" at this he made quotation marks in the air by waggling his fingers in the same way that Alex sometimes did, "- when I left. Saw each other most weeks for years..."

"When did that end?" Alex asked calmly. The man before them stiffened, fingers clawing on the armrest of the chair.

"A few months ago." His answer was blunt and he avoided eye contact with either of them.

Treading carefully, Alex asked, "and why was that?"

She saw his Adams apple rise and fall several times, then he answered, voice quiet and broken, "I wanted us to live together again... be married, like before."

"And what was Amanda's reaction?"

Another pause, a stilted silence in which Jeremy McKellen's heavy breathing seemed to echo and resonate from every surface in the room. Then he answered, voice cold and bitter, "she said if I wanted to live with her, I had to have Rosa, too."

"And you said no?" Alex asked, voice clipped, throat tight as she recognised the utter distaste in the handsome man's face, and suddenly his perfectly crafted featured were distorted into ugliness she couldn't have imagined.

"Of course I bloody said no!" Jeremy growled. "I left them for a reason; I couldn't live looking at her every day when she was six and doing all the kiddy things! How the 'ell was I gunna handle it when she was seventeen and wanted to talk about the future – boyfriends, husbands, jobs- knowing she wouldn't ever get that far because she was turning to fucking stone!" He was shaking with anger, fear, loss, and for the first time Alex considered that maybe the man before her _did _love his daughter; she couldn't ever respect him – a man who walked out on his wife and terminally ill child didn't deserve anything but apathy as far as she was concerned, but it didn't change the fact he had gone through a pain Alex could never have imagined. Peter had left her without warning or reason, the only explanation that he wasn't 'ready' for a marriage... at least Jeremy had tried, to begin with... or had he? The inner argument dawned on her. How long had he stuck around after Rosa's diagnosis? Weeks? Months? There was no question that it didn't amount to years. Did he deserve any shred of sympathy?

Looking towards Gene, she saw his own opinion etched into the lines of his face as clear as day. Anger lay there like a beast awakening from sleep; his eyes were full of rage, hurt, distress, and suddenly the question about his father rose once again in her mind. The moment he opened his mouth, she knew that however many nights she might have lain in his arms, she still knew barely a scrap of the man before her. "So you fucked off an' left, sent 'er money like a good boy? Didn' bother to just fuck off outta her life and leave 'er to understan' the fact her old man was a useless wanker who didn' want anything to do with 'er? Kept shaggin' her Mam like nout 'ad changed but wouldn' let 'er see you? You're a useless bag of shite, McKellen!" In the time he'd spoken, he'd crossed the distance between himself and Jeremy, bringing his face to within an inch of the other man's, hands roughly grabbing his shirt and yanking him a few inches off his seat. Jeremy's face was set with anger and rage.

"Unhand me or my lawyer will rip holes out of your pockets like you've never known!"

"I ain't scared of little shits like you, McKellen," Gene growled, yanking him off the floor with murder in his eyes. "I've met blokes like you, spineless little tosses with no bollucks an' no guts! So you keep your lying little threats to yourself and tell me why the hell someone would want to murder your little girl!"

"How the hell should I know?" He growled. "I haven't spoken to her properly in eleven fucking years! Last time I saw her was her twelfth birthday and I'd been to see Amanda- she didn't even fucking see me! She could have been a bloody bitch for all I know, pissed about with the wrong people, shagged the wrong bloke; how the fuck should I know? As far as I'm concerned she hasn't been my kid for eleven years; I don't know her any better than the local barmen, so you're asking the wrong person!"

Gene held him by the scruff a little longer, eyes boring angrily into his as the frankness of the man's words sank in, with a hiss, he brought his face back to within an inch of Jeremy's so that he could smell his breath. "You are a worthless sack of shit- did you ever think about the little girl you left be'ind? Ever wonder what she was like? Them blue eyes, that blonde 'air, that smile... ever think about 'ow it 'urt 'er to know 'er Daddy was a spineless coward? Because I promise you, McKellen, that no matter 'ow much a kid pretends otherwise, they 'ole themselves up in their rooms for years and cry for the bastard who walked out on 'em- no matter 'ow much they hate 'em." With that he threw the younger man to the floor and stormed out, heart pounding and foreign tears springing up behind his eyes.

Alex took one last look at Jeremy McKellen, laying in utter shock on the floor, before running after Gene and slamming the front door behind her.

---

It took a few moments for her to notice him; he had slunk into a nearby alleyway, and when she noticed him he was slumped against the wall, chest heaving and eyes closed tight, a cigarette burning in one hand, hip-flask in the other, with the lid off as he brought it repeatedly up to his mouth. Reaching him, she pried it from his hands, replacing the lid and placing it on the emergency stairwell that led up to a block of flats. Gene did nothing but open his eyes, looking at her with a loss and pain she had never noticed before, and never wanted to see again; his usually flirtatious gaze was gone, replaced by a terror so evident that Alex could feel tears building up behind her own eyes.

"Gene..." she whispered, voice cracking and splintering in her throat. He shook his head, standing up straight, looking vulnerable and lonely in the darkness of the alleyway.

"Don', Bols," he said, voice grating and full of pain. "Can' talk 'bout it... just..." he trailed off, eyes leaving hers and looking skywards. The ache in Alex's chest doubled, and she wondered if this was heartbreak; she'd never felt as useless, as hopeless, as she did now, watching the Manc Lion try to hide his pain from the rest of the world when he was falling so evidently to pieces...

Saying nothing, she stepped closer to him, holding out a hand to caress the rough stubble of his cheek... and then, within a moment, his eyes had locked on hers and any resolve he might have had dissipated away from him; his arms were suddenly around her, grasping her firmly against his chest with desperation and need, as though the world were ending and they were the last two people on earth. His hands tightened on her skin, his face buried in her hair, eyes closed as he inhaled her scent, seeking the solitude that she offered, the comfort, the protection, the divine sanctuary he'd come to associate with the feel of her against his body...

Her arms went around him, one hand slipping up to stroke the back of his neck, the small growth of hair that had provided her own reassurance weeks ago acting as an agent in this, her attempt to repay his kindness, his comfort...

And it worked. As her fingers traced across his skin, Gene felt his heated anger being replaced by another sort of warmth, warmth he had only ever felt here, with her... The feel of her in his arms, the smell of her shampoo as it twisted into his sinuses and imprinted itself on his brain... all of it overpowered him, and the sudden wave of emotion that rose in his chest physically weakened him, to the point where he thought his legs might buckle. With a sob that shocked them both, he pulled her even closer, leaning back against the wall and continuing to hold her as though his existence depended on it.

"I migh' never say it again, Bolly," he said softly, face still buried in her hair, "bu' if I ever 'ave kids, promise you'll never let me turn out like 'im?" His voice was cracked, as though trying to force emotion away, and his hands were squeezing so hard Alex thought she might bruise... but she didn't care.

And though she wasn't sure if 'him' was McKellen or Gene's own father, she nodded, arms around Gene's neck as she pulled back to look him in the eye. "I promise, Gene; you could _never _turn out like him."

---

"I'm goin' for a drive, Bols," he muttered as the rest of the team left for Luigi's that night. "I'll see yer tomorrow..." And without another word, he left; when she looked out the window, she saw him slipping into the Quattro and pulling away at speed.

And as she watched she felt a horrible gaping hole in her chest; _tomorrow._

The dawning realisation that she would be spending the night alone made her feel unreasonably abandoned, despite knowing that they were not a couple and that, even if her flat was littered with evidence of his masculinity, they were not living together. With a sigh, she closed the blinds, dimmed the lights, and went home.

---

He wasn't really sure how he'd got here; he'd driven for an hour, stopped off at a club for a drink, and suddenly he had a bare-breasted woman dancing in his lap with a glint in her eye that should have turned him on –and to an extent, it did- but that made him feel useless and dirty. He didn't understand why he was here; it wasn't like it could help him lose all the pent up anger that he'd held locked away in his chest for forty years, because it didn't matter how many women he shagged, or how many times he drank himself into oblivion, the next morning would always bring that same bitterness he couldn't ever hope to escape from.

So the reason he waited until her shift was over, and the reason he bought her a drink and ended up shagging her in the loo was completely unknown to him... but there he was, buried hilt deep in this warm, willing woman -who wasn't even asking to get paid for the privilege- plunging into her with vigour, trying to displace his anger, his life-long torment, his rage and his bitterness, onto this twenty-something stripper who was screaming her encouragement... but the name on his own lips wasn't 'Candy' as she'd so crassly introduced herself, and as he spilled into her, hips pumping until her quaking body fell still against his own, he felt awash with shame as the single, groaned utterance of 'Bolly' resonated through the room. He didn't know if Candy heard, or even if she cared, but after zipping up his trousers and allowing her a perfunctory kiss goodbye, he got into the Quattro and drove back to Luigi's, his mind whirring the whole way, wondering, fantasising, denying, displacing...

And as he sat there, staring up to her window like a love struck Romeo, he realized that whilst he was so consumed with emotion for Alex Drake, no other woman would ever come close.

So he didn't even bother debating the point with himself, and a few minutes later, he was knocking on her door, heart heavy, his previous anger now replaced with an, if possible, even greater ache of remorse.

----

Alex didn't join the others in Luigi's; she probably should have done, in retrospect, but for some reason she didn't feel as though she could face them without the faithful company of Gene at her side, joking, flirting, teasing until she giggled... She told herself it was silly to miss out on her social life because he wasn't there- after all, he would most likely be out having fun, so it was surely only right for her to do the same? But she couldn't. The fact was, Gene was her sole confidant in CID; Shaz and Chris were inseparable in the evenings, which meant that, whilst she maintained good working relationships with both, she never quite felt included when she joined them at their table. Ray, meanwhile, mingled with the other males from CID who she had never bothered nor cared to get to know, and the occasional women that rolled in, and in doing so he made it perfectly clear that, whilst he tolerated her presence at work, he was not keen to continue their relationship to any further level of friendship.

So she sat in her flat, staring at the TV screen but not really taking any note of what she saw, until she finally gave up and headed for bed at the abysmal hour of nine-thirty, laying awake in the semi-darkness.

Time crept by, and as much as she tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, the cold loneliness of her bed was overwhelming, the chilling duvet pressing down on her like a weight. In the dark, the fears that had been kept at bay by Gene's warm and comforting arms around her came to the forefront of her mind once more; images of Molly, skin brutally hacked away, flashed before her eyes. Memories of her parents deaths, of Layton's bullet speeding towards her, all crammed into her mind until she thought her brain might burst with the pain- and at one-thirty, she was practically sobbing with helplessness, the magnitude of her dependency on Gene's warmth and comfort slowly dawning on her, tears falling as she tried to keep at bay the fear that gripped her, imagining Gene's soft touch, the slight gravelly noise of his breath as he slept... It didn't work.

At five past two when the knock came, her heart leapt into her throat and she crawled further underneath the duvet, shaking with fear and terror as the knocking continued, wanting to rush towards the phone in the living room, to ring Gene and beg him to come round... but the phone was too far away, and her legs had lost any of their ability to move...

And then the voice came, and a rush of warmth spread to her toes, suddenly enabling her to leap from the bed, rush through the living room and throw open the door, her legs shaking only slightly in the chilly breeze, a result of leaping out of bed in her shirt at two thirty in the morning when the windows were still open.

At the sight of him, her heart stopped.

He looked miserable and defeated, shoulders sagging with an invisible weight, eyes red, skin pale, clothes rumpled...

---

The moment he saw her, his heart imploded, reaching out for her and pulling her smaller body against him in silent desperation, his hold tight, his own body shaking. "I'm sorry, Bols," he muttered, one hand in her hair. "I didn' wanna be alone." His voice was slightly slurred, a result of the full hipflask of whiskey he had downed for reasons still unknown as he'd climbed the steps to her flat...

With a short nod, she reached up and took his hand, nose wrinkling at the smell of sex and cheap perfume that lingered on his shirt, jealous tears springing unbidden to her eyes; but she didn't ask questions, simply leading him towards the bedroom, hand still clasping his, warm and reassuring in the chill of the night...

When he pulled her to him again, she pushed back from his chest forcefully, tears threatening to spill over as she whispered, "lose the shirt, Gene."

---

**Hope you like it!**

**I may not be able to update for a few days, depending how some personal things pan out, but leave me some reviews/ feedback/ any ideas you've got, and I'll try and get it done in the next week or so. It's going to be focused mostly on Gene's relationship with his father, so the Rosa plot takes a sort of sideline.**

**Thank you for your continued support of this story, and I hope you continue reading!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	11. He Said He Loved Me

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

"Lose the shirt, Gene." Her whisper was shaky and nervous, and he didn't question her when he saw the look of hurt on her face. With a pang, he realized he must reek of sex, booze and fags, and pulled away from her.

"Sorry," he said, voice pained. "I'll just... can I use the bathroom?"

Alex nodded, pulling away and looking at the wall, swiping angrily at the unbidden tears that slid from her eyes; she had no right to be jealous. It was perfectly acceptable for him to sleep with whomever he pleased, and it shouldn't bother her like this, in this painstaking way that made her heart muscle clench. But the honest truth was, it hurt to know that he could so easily swan from the arms of someone else and arrive back here with such blatant disregard for... for what? For the fact he spent every night with her in case she broke down? Was she being irrational, to expect him to remain celibate? Of course she was, she told herself; he hadn't sworn his love and devotion to her, they weren't a couple –Christ, they weren't even really sleeping together- and he had made it quite clear that first morning that whatever they were, they would not, could not be a couple... So she was wrong to expect him to abstain from women... but looking at him as he rifled through his drawer, pulling out a pair of jeans, she thought he looked ashamed, guilty, almost sorrowful...

"Back in a bit," he said gruffly, and in a moment he had disappeared into the bathroom, and she could hear the shower running, water shooting down heavily, imagining the small rivulets running down his neck, over his back... Shaking herself, she gathered her dressing gown around her, walking into the kitchen and pulling down two glasses and a bottle of whiskey that Gene had insisted on bringing over for emergency purposes a few nights before. The fact he had 'emergency whiskey' had made her laugh hysterically, but now she suddenly understood the occasional need for a calming of the nerves, and poured generous amounts into both glasses, thinking to herself as she did so.

She hadn't intended for him to have a shower; she'd have been perfectly happy if he just took off the shirt that smelt like a cheap brothel and slipped into bed with her. Now though, she was glad for the time of solitude, knowing he was in the next room, but allowing herself that small moment of deliberation; what exactly did she want from Gene?

The last few weeks had shown a gentle side to the Manc Lion she would never have expected, made the aching pain of lust and affection triple in volume and threaten to brim over in her stomach every time he held her close. It was foreign to her, being so intimate with a man and yet never having broached the sexual barrier; she longed to kiss him, touch him, run her hands down his chest and press her mouth to his pulse, his chest, his stomach... Yet something about the past few weeks -the nights of contented companionship- was threatened by that dawning desire; if she made a conscious decision to act on the impulse that was slowly igniting in her stomach, and it went unreciprocated, the company he offered would be torn from her grasp, and she wasn't sure she would be able to handle a night away from him...

The fact of the matter was, the terror of being without Gene was worse than any other fear she had ever known; because without Gene, the other fears surfaced. When he was there, she didn't feel them, didn't consider them at all... With Gene she was safe.

---

When she walked back into the bedroom, glasses in either hand, bottle tucked under her arm, it was to see Gene entering from the bathroom, towelling his hair dry with his jeans resting unbelted low on his hips, bare-chested and oblivious to her.

She took a moment to admire his body, smiling at the schoolgirl part of her that got giddy at the sight of a shirtless male; he was no Adonis- there was no way she could claim he had a sculpted six pack- but he was flat-stomached now, having lost a good three stone in the last year through methods she hadn't been able to fathom. His arms were strong, biceps larger than she would have expected, and shoulders broader, too; she supposed hauling criminals around had paid off in that respect. His chest was scattered with lightly coloured hair, trailing down his sternum and disappearing beneath the waist band of his jeans. His thin gold chain glinted in the dim light of the room, startling in contrast to the pallor of his skin, jangling as he repeatedly towelled down his hair, glinting with every movement he made. When he finally tossed the towel aside onto the chair beside the door, he looked up and froze, their eyes locking briefly before he cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I'll get a shirt, I was jus'-"

"Its fine," Alex said, voice soft, extending her hand and offering him the whiskey she had readied for him. "I've seen you now, what would be the point?"

Gene seemed to breathe a sigh of relief then; she was teasing him, which meant they weren't at odds, and she wasn't just doing this out of sympathy. "You sure, Bols?"

"I think I can manage a bare chest, Gene; you've handled me wearing t-shirt and knickers for two weeks, and I think we'll both agree I have better control than you." With a teasing waggle of her eyebrows, she sashayed over to the bed, placing the whiskey bottle and her own glass down on the bedside table before sitting herself down, hugging her knees to her chest and looking over at him almost nervously. He remained still for a few moments, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck and looking for an excuse to make a joke; but at nearly three in the morning, there wasn't much humour to be had.

"Come here," Alex murmured, twisting her legs beneath her and kneeling up on them, holding out a hand expectantly. With a gulp, Gene stepped forwards, slipping his hand into hers and pausing, looking at her for confirmation that this was ok, that she didn't mind... She squeezed back at him reassuringly, eyes never leaving him as she tugged gently on the offered limb so that he stepped forwards, knees knocking against the bottom of the bed. With a snort of amusement, he knelt on the bottom of the mattress, hand in hers but too nervous to move as he looked at her. Another gentle tug on his hand, and Gene was smirking, crawling up towards her almost hesitantly, eyes full of questions he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to.

Alex caught her breath at the sight of him coming towards her, reeking of dominance as he edged almost like a predator towards her. His eyes were clouded, his chest still bare, and she found it hard to deliver any oxygen to her body at all...

And then he was inches away, but he didn't stop moving; the hand that had long since left hers gently reached out to wrap around her waist, the other seeking her opposing hand, locking their fingers together... and with barely a moment's hesitation, he'd leant her back down on the bed, body lying softly over hers and his face settling into the crook of her neck, the pressure so great it was hard to think of anything else. As he lay there, enjoying the fresh scent of her, face pressed flat against her skin, Alex could have sworn she felt his lips brush against her pulse, but pushed the thought away as he gathered her close, rolling them both onto their sides, one of her arms around his neck, the other entwined intimately with his.

"I ain't good for yer, Bolly," he whispered gruffly, face still pressed into her neck, "bu' I can' stay away..."

"I don't want you to, Gene," she replied softly, slipping her hand into the softness of his blonde hair as she whispered to him, "I want you to stay here."

He made a sound of agreement at the back of his throat, nuzzling her neck with his nose in a way that made Alex's heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her mouth. "Cold..." he said eventually; Alex felt his lips brush against her pulse at the movement of speech and she sighed, closing her eyes briefly before murmuring softly back at him.

"Duvet?"

"Mmm..." he sighed, eyes closed to all but the sound of her voice and the scent o her skin, "lyin' on it though..."

Alex smiled, "I'm sure we can move..."

"Mmm..." Gene assented, remaining completely still.

With a sigh, Alex murmured, "ok... it's your testicles that might shrivel up back into your body." She feigned a yawn and stroked his hair gently, "goodnight Gene."

"You're lyin'," Gene growled, but that didn't stop him rolling away from her, standing up and slipping beneath the duvet. With a grin, she joined him, lying with her chin resting on her hand, eyes soft. Gene looked back at her, hand reaching out to tenderly stroke the side of her neck, watching as her eyes fluttered shut and she lay her head down on the pillow, sighing softly. "Bols?" He whispered eventually.

"Yes Gene?" Her reply was soft, mellow, eyes remaining closed as she answered him. There was a moment's hesitation, and then he was pulling her close again, shifting so that his head rested once more on her shoulder.

"When yer 'usband left... what'd he say?" He could feel her tense, was about to take the question back in fact, but then she was answering him, curling her body against his and speaking in a soft, gentle voice that was plain and honest.

"He said he couldn't love me anymore," she said softly, "said that me and Molly were too much of a strain, that he wasn't ready to be married..."

A low rumble rose in Gene's throat, "Bastard!" He growled, arms holding her ever tighter as his nose continued to tease against the skin of her throat.

Alex gave a sad smile, and, knowing that he couldn't see, whispered, "what he meant was, he could handle being married as long as he didn't have to deal with a child... he was fine at the beginning; twenty-four hour access everyday suited him I suppose," she felt his hold tighten, felt the warmth of his breath on her skin and closed her eyes. "What happened with your father, Gene?"

From his closeness, she could feel the rise and fall of his Adam's apple as he gulped, and began sliding her hand up and down his arm repeatedly, in silent reassurance as she waited for his answer. When eventually it came, his voice was gruff with emotion, and her first instinct was to shift closer, to increase the contact between their bodies as he divulged information she wasn't sure he had ever bothered to share before... she followed it.

---

"'e left when I was a lad... was 'bout twelve, I think... said 'e didn' wan' me or Stu when we were born an' 'e 'adn't changed his mind... don' remember much of 'im, to be honest Bols... jus' the drink... an' the women... an' the beatin's..." he shuddered against her and Alex's heart seemed to crack and splinter into a million pieces as the Neanderthal man she knew fell away to reveal the broken boy he had once been. "I'll never forge' the beatin's, Bolly..."

"What did he do?" She whispered, slipping her fingers into his and sighing with relief when he returned her actions with a brief squeeze, speaking quietly, forehead resting on her shoulder, eyes closed as he did so, overwhelmed by the knowledge that he wanted to tell her, wanted her to know why he was such a bastard, why he acted the way he did... but at the same time he was terrified, scared to death that she would turn away from him and ask him to leave...

"You goin' anywhere, Bolly?" He asked softly, voice full of doubt.

Alex frowned, but replied evenly, calmly... "No, Gene... I'm staying here."

He hesitated only briefly, and then nodded, settling his face back against her neck and inhaling deeply before he spoke, taking comfort in the flowery scent, the velvet warmth and the comfort of her pulse beneath his cheek... Voice cracking with the effort, he began to speak, and though it brought the world crashing down on his back to do so, he continued on.

"Firs' time I was five... I 'ad me footy match on the Sunday an' he came to watch- I scored an' all..." He gulped, fingers tracing patterns against her skin as he spoke, "though' he migh' be proud o' me... but he wen' an bought himself a bottle o' vodka at 'alf time an' by the end 'e was yellin' at me for bein' a useless little shit..." His hold on her tightened, nose pressing into her neck as he went on, voice softer, full of remorse and bitterness, "an' I go' injured, didn' I? Righ' there in fron' of 'im... some bastards boot cut into me head an' I 'ad blood pourin' in me face all day..." He was shaking, the effort of bringing these long displaced memories to the surface clearly taking its toll. His hands grasped at her like iron, fingers clenching on her waist repeatedly, but Alex refused to react, simply taking the slight pain as her own form of sacrifice for the years of pain Gene had endured in silence. "Got 'ome an' I was cryin'... I was only five for Christ's sake – course I bloody cried... 'e told me to shut it... said I was an embarrassment an' I deserved what I got for bein' so crap... an' I couldn' help it Bols..." his voice cracked, tears threatening to spill over, and then it all tumbled from his lips, uncontrolled and blundering as he let down the walls he had kept inside his own head since the age of six. "I kep' cryin' an' 'e got... 'e got angry an' 'it me, so I cried even more... an' I kep' cryin'... so 'e kept at i'... an' in the end 'e tol' me if I wan'ed to play footy again I better learn to keep me gob shut an' take i' like a man..."

"Gene..." Alex whispered, pulling her head back and tilting up his chin to meet her gaze; he wasn't crying, but there was a thin sheen to his eyes that she found unbearable, and she wanted more than anything to rid him of it, but didn't know how... "You don't need to do this..."

"Please Bols," he begged, "I do... just lemme do it, please?" he slipped his hand back to her neck, focusing intently for several moments... Alex watched him uncertainly before realizing, as the thump of her pulse intensified, that he was seeking the reassurance of her beating heart.

Without thought, she nodded, slipping her own hand slowly over his chest, resting above the pounding of his own heart, the warmth of his skin a welcome factor in the chill of the room. Slowly, as she met his eyes, she felt his pulse calm, steadying to a gentle and repetitive rhythm that became a teasing, tingling sensation beneath her fingers...

Gene looked down slowly at her pale hand, resting on the left side of his chest, her red fingernails stark against the pale colour of his skin... and in that moment, feeling the safest he could remember having felt in years, he looked back up again, meeting her eyes with the most sincere thanks he could muster in his gaze, his own hand remaining comfortingly on the pulse that was thundering at her neck. He closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillow before continuing.

"Secon' time 'e came 'ome pissed as a fart... couple o' months after me match, that time... tol' me Mam his vodka 'ad gone missin' and lined me an' Stu –me brother- up in the 'all... tol' us if we didn' own up to it 'e'd beat i' outta us anyway..." his voice faded slightly, only to be counteracted by the sudden panicked desperation that drove a knife into Alex's chest, "it weren' either of us Bolly!" Pained, she realised in that second that he had spent his whole life trying to convince himself that the beating was undeserved, that he _hadn't _stolen his father's alcohol... Aching inwardly, she lifted her spare hand, the one not resting above his heart, and caressed his face with tender strokes until his eyes fluttered closed.

"I know, Gene," she whispered, eyes stinging. "I know... I believe you..."

With a deep breath, Gene went on, eyes open and averted once again, focusing on the pillow to the left of her face..."'e started on me... said I were a thievin' little bastard an' deserved to rot... on'y Stu started sayin' it was 'im, that 'e should leave me alone 'cause I were just a kid... 'e was on'y twelve an' all..." Gene's eyes were still closed, though now it was not, as before, to the comfort of her caress, but as a shield, a way of hiding his pain from her... Alex's hand continued to caress his cheek, her own tears falling freely for the man pouring his heart out so openly before her...

"'e didn' care... beat us both up jus' like 'e wan'ed to begin with..." His shaky breath faltered only slightly, then, quietly, he murmured, "Stu started drinkin' after tha'... tol' me all the older girls liked 'is scar... on'y I knew they didn', 'cause I followed him a coupla times..." a small, ghost of a smile flitted over his face, sad and lonely, reliving a million demons in that split second alone... "'e wen' ou' alone, nicked shitloads o' drink from the shops an' came 'ome as pissed as the ol' man every other nigh'... got ten shades o' shit kicked outta his arse every time an' all... ended up doin' crack an' 'e died when I were fifteen..."

Voice hollow, Gene trailed off, chest heaving with emotion as he fought back the tears which were slowly becoming more and more inevitable. Alex could think of nothing to say, and instead she did the only thing she thought might offer any comfort; she placed the hand which still rested at her pulse over her own heart, holding it there as she edged closer, slipping one leg between his and stroking his bare feet tenderly with her own. Gene responded by rubbing his thumb tenderly against her chest through the cotton of her shirt, as though searching for reality, for comprehension... And he found it, not in the touch of her skin against his or the smell of her in his nostrils, but in the tears he saw spilling from her eyes, glittering and glinting with light from the bedside lamp... and in those tears he found the strength to continue; because she understood, and he knew, as she held his hand against her fast beating heart, that she really wasn't going anywhere- she wouldn't leave him.

"'e tol' me 'e loved me once, Bolly," he said quietly, thumb still tentatively caressing her. He felt her stiffen in shock, saw her eyes widen in surprise and he allowed his lips to contort into a sad, bitter smile that plucked at her heartstrings. "'e was pissed outta 'is skull an' beatin' me to shit at the time, but 'e said it..." His breath caught as memories of the physical and emotional pain bore down on him. "I came 'ome from footy one nigh' and he was screamin' bloody murder at me Mam... an' I 'ated 'im, Bols... right then I was the closest I've ever got to killin' someone... 'e was yellin' at 'er, tellin' 'er if 'e wan'ed dinner at ten in the evenin' then it was 'er job to get it for 'im... I could've 'andled the yellin', Bols... I'd done tha' for ten years... bu' nobody throws glasses at me Mam, whoever 'e is..." His hand twisted away from the soft beat of her heart, instead capturing and holding her own hand, linking together their fingers as he stared, transfixed by the delicate beauty of her slim, smooth hand next to the rough masculinity of his own.

"Stu'd left 'ome when 'e turned sixteen, so 'e weren' there, and she was jus'... jus' letting 'im bash 'er about... so I chucked me bag at him... an' when 'e turned around, 'e 'it me an' all... knocked me black an' blue an' laughed 'bout it just 'cause 'e could... an' when I yelled back at 'im to stop it 'e jus' laughed, told me 'e loved me... said 'e was a good daddy an' someday I'd realize it..." his eyes had closed again, his face scrunched up in unspeakable pain as he made his greatest confession for the very first time in his life; "an' I ain't ever been able to say the words since... don' even know I believe in 'em anymore..." His heart sank all over again; it was horrible, he realized, that his mother told him he was loved every week, and yet it was his father's crass drunkenness that bulldozed into his mind whenever 'love' was mentioned...He met her eyes and whispered to her, feeling absent, lost and adrift as he whispered 'cause if that's love Bolly, then what the 'ells 'ate meant to be?"

Alex stroked his cheek tenderly, eyes softening, and even when his heart was wrenched with emotion, he still felt that warm sense of attraction rising in his stomach, spreading to his fingertips and turning up the slightest smile on his lips before she spoke again. "You don't really believe that's love, do you Gene?"

He shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable; because this wasn't recounting anymore –and that had been bad enough-, this was talking about feelings, something he never had been good at, nor did he ever think he would. "I ain't a nancy boy, Bols." He said gruffly, "I wouldn' know 'bout all that bollucks." And suddenly he was turning away from her, and she knew the conversation was over as he pulled his hand from hers; she wasn't surprised. He'd said more than she'd ever heard from him in one sitting, and it was still new to him releasing any kind of personal information.

After a moment's hesitation, she moved her body closer to his again, her arm slipping around him and fingers gently running over his stomach and chest, chin coming to rest on his shoulder as she listened to the rough grate of his breath whilst he attempted to calm himself, to banish once again the demons that had just surfaced... it was easier than he'd expected. Knowing Alex was here with him, that she had listened to his stories and not tried to analyse and counsel him, was worth more than she would ever understand...

Without speaking, Alex slipped her leg over his, turning so that her cheek pressed into the skin of his shoulder, her eyes closed as Gene lay completely still, whilst her hands continued lightly caressing and grazing over his smooth, soft flesh.

Eventually, he let out a strange noise that was neither groan nor whimper, but somewhere in-between, catching her wandering hand between his and holding it firmly against his chest, "don' do that," he grunted, "else we'll both be screwed."

Alex sighed, brushing tentative lips across his shoulder blades before whispering seductively, "I really wouldn't mind."

Gene remained resolutely composed, facing away from her, hand holding hers firmly to prevent any further form of movement as he spoke, "I mean i', Bols... I'd ruin yer."

Her reply was instantaneous, full of sincerity, "I don't believe that for a second, Gene."

There was a pause in which Gene glanced sideways, seeing her eyes fixed on his face, then tore his gaze away again. "You 'eard what 'e was like, Bolly... an' I ain't much better."

"You're wrong," she told him simply. "You're nothing like him."

"Booze?" Gene muttered, lifting his spare hand and raising on finger as he said, "check!" Alex sighed, watching as he continued, "Fags? Check!" The second finger lifted up, and she waited as he went on. "Cheatin' on the Missus?" The third finger rose, and she saw the self-loathing in his expression out of the corner of her eye as he whispered, "check."

"Gene..." she started, but he had already spoken once more.

"Throw in a kiddie, Bollykecks, and I'll have the whole caboodle." His voice dripped with bitter hatred, and Alex could think of nothing to say, and once again settled for brushing his skin with her lips, feeling him initially tense, before relaxing with a sigh. "When yer gunna start listenin' to me, Bols?" he whispered. "I ain't good for yer."

"I'll start listening when you start talking sense," she said quietly. "Because whatever you might think about yourself, I know firsthand that you are not, and could never be, the sort of beast you're making out."

Gene felt his heart contract at her words, at the depth of her belief in him, and suddenly he wanted to believe her, if only to be able to roll over and bring his lips lightly against her own... her free hand traced a pattern over his shoulder and up towards his neck, around his ear and down, before she stopped, looking at his face, which was still turned resolutely away from her, in expectancy. His eyes were closed tight, lips moving slightly; straining her ears, she could hear him counting to ten under his breath, and smiled sadly; perhaps this really was all they would ever be.

"Goodnight, Gene," she whispered, moving her head to the pillow but keeping her arm and leg around him. His grip on her hand tightened slightly, before he nodded, letting go of her to reach over and switch out the light, pausing only to take a large gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle. As the room fell into darkness, he lay back down, head swimming and saying nothing for a long, long time...

And then he found himself turning towards her, staring transfixed as the moonlight bathed her in ethereal beauty that softened her face and took away the stresses that had plagued both their minds in recent weeks... Her lips were parted slightly, eyes closed, her hair falling slightly in her eyes... she looked incredible.

"Bolly?" He said eventually, voice soft but seeming almost like a thunder-clap in the silence of the room.

"Mmm?" She asked softly, keeping her eyes closed.

Gene reached out, tucking the stray lock of hair behind her ear in an oddly tender gesture as he murmured, "yer know if anythin' 'appened –with us, I mean... I... I'd never be able to tell yer... yer know... an'... an' yer deserve better than tha'..." His gaze faltered, as did his voice, and he looked briefly away.

At his words, she opened her eyes, catching his hand in her own and replying, in a soft voice, "Words only go so far, Gene; I wouldn't need them..." Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she could have sworn he was moving in for the kiss, that in a moment their lips would brush... but then she was being gently wrapped in the circle of his strong arms, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head, whilst her hands slid tenderly over his bare back.

"Bolly?"

"Yes Gene," she murmured.

A beat, and then, "yer know I didn' like 'er righ'? The stripper... she was jus'... she was jus' in the right place..." his voice trailed off towards the end and he sighed, "I'm sorry, Bols..."

Alex said nothing, simply returning his embrace and trying to keep her tears at bay...

"Goodnight, Bolly," he murmured eventually.

Alex blinked away hot tears and nodded, voice soft and distant, "goodnight, Gene..." Her eyes closed to the familiar sensation of Gene holding her close, just as he had every night for the last two weeks... With just one small difference; tonight, as Alex started to drift into peaceful slumber, he pressed his lips against her forehead, gently, but with pressure enough to stir her from her slight doze.

"You'll never 'ear me say it, Bols," he whispered into the darkness, "but it don' mean I ain' thinkin' it."

---

**Since Phil Glenister lost much weight for series 2, I thought I would pay homage to his now even sexier good looks in the bare-chesty bit ;) YAY! Much fun-time!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	12. Bloody Knives and Butterfly Kisses

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

Alex awoke to the sensation of fingers caressing her thigh, stroking up and down in slow yet firm movements, mere inches away from her rapidly melting crux. Her back was pulled flush to Gene's chest and they were lying hip-to-hip; she bit her lip, trying desperately not to move in case he stopped his subtle ministrations and pulled his body away from hers, though it became more and more difficult to remain unresponsive the longer his fingers continued, the more she became aware of something hard pressing firmly into her rear...

"Gene..." she breathed softly, head lolling back onto his shoulders with a shaky sigh. He didn't react, and she turned her face to find his eyes closed, head resting on the pillow, breathing steady and slow... He was still asleep. For a moment, she considered simply letting his fingers continue on their slow and teasing journey upwards and letting whatever happened, happen... but somehow that seemed like taking advantage, and despite the fact she was in a state of arousal she hadn't felt since her first days with Peter, she couldn't bring herself to allow his subconscious to control his movements; if the two of them were ever to cross that line, it was going to be a sober, conscious decision...

But, she asked herself, if her hand just _happened_ to wander in her sleep, would she mind _terribly_ if Gene let her take that all the way? The answer was no, and she flushed inwardly as she realized that the thought itself was having a liquidating effect on her centre, and had to close her eyes briefly to fight off thoughts of that same scenario...

"Gene!" She repeated, more sharply, telling herself she was not to think about the feel of his fingers on her skin and shifting her body slightly towards his; his eyes, heavy with sleep, fluttered open, but Alex barely noticed, since his hand had slipped, and now grazed the silk fabric of her underwear as her mouth formed a wide 'o', her eyes closing to the tingle of warmth now spreading towards her stomach... A small groan from Gene brought her back to earth and her fluttering lids suddenly flew open, eyes wide as he stared down into her face, looking directly at her lips...

"Bloody 'ell Bolly, close yer gob would yer? Can' bloody think as it is!"

---

Having disentangled themselves from one another, with many a sly glance and flushes of red skin– the latter coming solely from Alex, whilst Gene maintained a smug look that practically screamed at Alex that, next time, she should simply allow his devilishly teasing fingers to slide all the way into her underwear with no thought to the consequences- they began to ready themselves for work. Ten minutes after slipping from the warmth of the duvet, Alex walked into the kitchen to find Gene leaning over the cooker, trying, and failing it seemed, to poach an egg, still wearing his jeans and no shirt.

"Bloody chickens," he was muttering under his breath, "always making things bloody difficult for the rest of us with these stupid-" he tapped the egg in his hand with a knife, too gently to make a mark, "bloody-" he hit it again, slightly harder, enough to crack it slightly, but not enough to release any of the eggs insides, "eggshells!" At the last, his hit was so hard the egg snapped clean in half, the shell and the eggs contents all splashing into the boiling hot water in the pan that sat simmering on the hob. "Bugger!" He growled, just as Alex laughed, pushing off the doorframe she had rested her head on and sitting herself down at the kitchen table. Gene turned to look at her, eyes narrowed as he said, "last time I try an' make you breakfast, Bolly!"

Stifling a grin, Alex stood up, sidling over to him and peering over his shoulder into the gooey mess that might once have made a decent egg, were it not for the large pieces of shell and exploded yolk. "I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound serious, but failing as her voice cracked "it looks... lovely."

Gene looked round at her, silently trying to think of something that would allow her to stand so close to him for a while longer, enjoying the warmth of her hands on his waist, resting lightly above the waistband of his jeans, fingers teasing his skin with feather light movements as she stood up on tiptoe to see over his shoulder. "Fancy some toast, Bols?"

"I don't know..." Alex said, nervously eyeing Gene's failed egg. "Can you cook toast?"

Gene turned around, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow as he leant back on the counter. "I'm no Delia Smith, Bolly, but I can toast a piece o' bread!"

Ten minutes later, Alex was scraping a thick layer of black from the top of her toast, grinning as Gene slumped in his chair, biting on his own blackened breakfast with a grimace.

---

They were the first to arrive at CID that morning, so there was no need for the timed discretion they'd had to employ in recent weeks. With a nod in her direction, Gene entered his office, sitting himself down and immediately picking up the phone. Smiling to herself, Alex settled herself at her desk, readying herself to work and starting to work her way through an impressive pile of various case notes. Chris, Shaz and Ray entered at around ten past nine, and the morning passed quickly and without much note.

At one o'clock, the phone rang.

---

"Guv?" Alex said five minutes later, peeking her head around his office door before stepping in and closing it quietly behind her. Looking up, Gene saw the pale flush of her skin and frowned, removing his feet from the desk and taking the smoking cigarette from his lips.

"What's in yer knickers, Bols?" He asked, blowing a soft stream of smoke to one side, forehead creased in ill-disguised worry.

Alex's face was drawn, her lips thin as she said, "just had a call through... Jeremy McKellen's been found dead in his house – multiple stab wounds."

Gene gulped, nodding, "right... who reported it?"

Shrugging, Alex replied, "we don't know – it was anonymous."

Grabbing his coat from its peg, Gene opened the door. "Come on fizzy-knickers, job to do!" His voice was full of its normal bravado, but even as Alex nodded, trying to banish the need to embrace him and allow him to hold her securely in the circle of his arms, she saw a tender streak of concern in his blue eyes, and gave him a small smile of thanks before walking out ahead of him. As she left, she tried her hardest not to jump forward in shock, feeling Gene's hand as it brushed tenderly over the bare skin at the base of her back, his touch of silent reassurance leaving the smallest trace of heat in its wake as he suddenly pulled his touch away from her and went back to being 'Guv'.

----

"No signs of a struggle," Alex mused thoughtfully, glancing around the living room they had sat in less than twenty-four hours previously, eyes deliberately avoiding the body which sprawled across the floor, her gaze scanning the room in every other direction. Gene was pulling up sofa cushions, tossing them aside and giving no thought to where they landed, as though he had simply lost his car keys and there was not a dead body laying a metre away from him. After a few moments, however, he let out a triumphant laugh, surprisingly evil in nature, nodding his head in the direction of the sofa and motioning for Alex to join him.

"Bloody gold mine, Bols," he said, and Alex half-expected to find a roll of twenty-pound notes. Instead, her eyes fell on a glinting bread-knife, handle white but smeared with blood. The edge was serrated and bloodied, and Alex grimaced.

"So whoever it was panicked and hid the weapon," she said softly. Gene nodded.

"Woman then," he concluded with a shrug. Alex blinked- she had assumed the same thing, but hadn't expected him to voice it first.

"Why?" She asked in disbelief.

Gene explained it away with a shrug, "Only a woman knocks someone in an' 'ides the weapon under a pillow, you nonce."

Alex closed her eyes with a sigh; perhaps they were not on the same wavelength, after all. "I was thinking more along the lines of it being a crime of passion," she said softly.

With a squint, Gene wrinkled his nose at the bloodied corpse and muttered, "ain't nothing passionate about that from where I'm sittin', Bols."

"Not like that, Gene," she sighed. "A bread knife is hardly the weapon of a pre-planned murder, is it? And look at the wounds," kneeling down, she pointed to the erratic stab wounds in Jeremy McKellen's chest, grimacing slightly at the blood as she singled out each mark in turn. "One below the rib, one in the stomach, one in the shoulder- it was a panicked attack, probably multiple strokes in a very short space of time, none of them really aimed anywhere in particular. And look at his facial expression – shock." She pointed to Jeremy's pale, wide-eyed expression.

"He's cut on the arms." Gene muttered, lifting the victims left arm up and revealing a deep gouge in the flesh, then repeating the action on the right. A small cut on the wrist, as though the blade had only scratched across the skin. "'ad a case up in Manchester with Sam- bloody fairy chewed me 'ear off for arresting the wrong soddin' bloke- the guy got lashed with leather strappin' off of one o' the factory belts.... wounds lined up good an' proper in the end... wouldn't lemme live down the fact gay-boy science won for weeks after tha'..." he trailed off, then shook his head, lifting the arms up and positioning them up with the wounds in a protective cross over his chest. The cut on the right hand wrist lined up with the wound in his left shoulder, leaving a red line which deepened the further from the wrist it spread, stopping suddenly. The other arms' injury lined up with the wound beneath the ribs, and the mark on the stomach stood alone from the other two, a large red stain spreading over Jeremy's shirt and stomach. Gene tried to hide his pride at his findings when Alex smiled approvingly at him, replacing the slight upturning of his lips with a scowl as he reminded himself that it was he who remained the superior officer.

"So 'e shat 'imself and stuck up 'is arms to protect 'is chest then," He surmised with a quirk of the eyebrows.

Alex shook her head reprovingly, "do you see any evidence here, Gene, that would suggest he, as you so tactfully put it, 'shat himself'?"

Gene shrugged, dropping the victims' arms and standing up quickly. "I ain't fannyin' about in 'is y-fronts, Bolly, but if you wanna prove my theory, feel free to 'ave a gander." He lit a cigarette, looking down at her as she wrinkled her nose in distaste, standing up and dusting her hands.

"You realize we're going to have to give statements?" Alex said, meeting his eyes; Gene snorted at her in apparent amusement, exhaling heavily.

"I'm a bloody Police officer you plonk, not a murder suspect," he took another drag, then looked down at Jeremy McKellen's body. "Not that I'm all that sorry 'bout our loss," he admitting, toe-ing the body with his boot and grimacing in distaste, "bugger!" He cursed, "I got blood on me good shoes."

Alex closed her eyes in disbelief, choosing to ignore his last comment and speaking softly, "Gene, we were probably two of the last people to see him alive; it's procedure. We have to give statements."

"Bloody 'ell," Gene grumbled, looking down again in disgust. "'e was a waste o' space when 'e was alive an' now he's taking up my precious time when he's copped it; useless little git." He dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out, ignoring Alex's reprimanding glare as he did so and turning to the forensic investigator closest to him. "Bag it up and get it all sorted by four. I want this wrapped up by dinner."

Alex frowned. "Gene, you can't possibly rush a murder investigation just because-"

"It's a case of fingerprints and evidence, Bolly – we get the forensics report by four an' we can bag the scum by dinner." He gave one last glance over the room before rubbing his hands together and tilting his head towards the door. "Right Bols, let's go."

---

Sat in the car, Gene turned on the radio as Alex went into overdrive about statements and procedure and all the other "–la-dee-dar posh-bollucks!" He stared her down as she started up again, shouting over her protests with his own, considerably louder ones. "Unless any of that bloody evidence in there suggests one of us killed 'im, Bolly, I am not handing in a bloody gay-boy statement and _that's _final!" His gaze was withering and though Alex briefly considered arguing, she didn't press the point.

"I don't like it," she said finally, "but you're evidently going to remain as stubborn as a mule on the point." She crossed her arms and looked out the window as Gene turned up the volume on the radio, grimacing as Betty Everett filtered through the speakers, moving to change the station when Alex pushed his hand away.

"I like this song," she explained at his reproving look. "It reminds me of..." she blushed. She wasn't going to continue that sentence since, actually, as the lyrics of 'It's In His Kiss' trickled into her head, the only person she was thinking about was him, Gene Hunt, and the heartfelt, if awkward, admittance he had made to her the previous evening whilst he thought she was asleep.

In truth, the thought had been with her all day and she hadn't yet managed to really consider the magnitude of his statement; did it mean he was relenting, allowing her to make a move and act on the feelings that they were both trying and failing to reign in? Or was it just a general statement, a proclamation that whoever he was with, she would never hear him tell anyone that he loved them? She looked at him as he tapped his gloved fingers against the steering wheel and hid a small smile behind her hand at the resolute pout he had put in place at her announcement of liking the song. Looking at his face, the brow creased in thought, she wondered what was going through his mind, what he was thinking about... or who, for that matter...

----

"If you wanna know if he loves you so, it's in his kiss... that's where it is..." Gene rolled his eyes as the last lines faded into the news announcements, hiding his inner wonderings on just how true those words were.

Maybe he wasn't the only bloke who failed to say those three little words after all... in fact, thinking about it, Ray would never say those words, either... not that Ray was a model for good relationships, of course, but it proved that it wasn't just Gene who had problems with emotional intimacy, which, perhaps, meant that Gene wasn't quite such a useless lump when it came to life and love after all... Chris might have said it, but he was hardly a landmark for manhood, nor would he ever be, so that wasn't anything to worry about...

Looking at her, he sighed. God, he didn't want to go back to work... maybe he could persuade her to go out for lunch? It wasn't like they'd had a hearty breakfast and she'd say no, was it? Well... he might be able to ask her slightly more tactfully than that, but...

"Right Bols," he said eventually, turning the volume down again and looking over to her. "We listened to your fizzy-fanny tosh; what do we do now?"

Alex blinked, wondering about the allusiveness of that question; surely, she thought, they should be heading back for work? But maybe not, since he hadn't yet pulled away and seemed in no hurry to do so anytime soon... Realising that he was handing her an opportunity on a plate, however unknowingly, she shifted in her seat, waggling her eyebrows as she whispered, sending him a sidelong glance, "I don't know..."

Gene rolled his eyes. "Fat lot of use you are," he muttered, reaching for the ignition.

Mind fogged up with Betty Everett's words, the only thing Alex could think of slipped from her lips, voice soft and suggestive... "I could... kiss you?"

And in that moment, Gene's heart jumped into his throat, he stalled the car and simultaneously wondered if she'd hit her head and gone into a concussive state... Turning to look at her, he found her staring intently at the radio, as though scared it would disappear if she relaxed her concentration. Her face was red with embarrassment, but she was making no effort to take the comment back, and he gulped.

"'ey?" He managed, his voice laced with disbelief as he found himself unable to make anything more than a pathetic utterance.

"I said I could kiss you..." Alex whispered, flushing even deeper red and biting her lip, not glancing in his direction at all. It struck her in that moment that she was deadly serious about the proposition, whether he acted upon it or not, and that she sounded like a complete and utter idiot for saying it. In fact, whilst she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this serious about anything, she couldn't remember ever feeling quite so nervous, either... and as she waited for a response, she began to feel the tugging of rejection at the pit of her stomach, threatening to overcome her, wondering if it was still possible to retract the comment and pass it off as a flirtatious suggestion that he simply overreacted to... It wasn't like they were foreign to flirtation... In fact, they were quite well practised at it, so, if needs be, it could be only too easy to simply pull the statement back with a grin and tell him she wasn't drunk enough to engage in mouth-to-mouth contact with him... Easy...

Gene continued to stare at her for several moments, searching for some sign that she was joking, flirting, about to take it back... but if anything, she was just sat there waiting for him to react, to say or do something... only what did he do? If he leant over and kissed her, they could just be speeding in the right direction for a collision with a brick wall, and if he didn't, he'd end up regretting it...

And then there was the slight problem that, if indeed she was joking, he'd look like a complete and utter prat leaning across the seat towards her and having her shove him off... so he decided instead to leave it to her; shifting in his seat, and hooking his arm casually around the headrest he twisted himself towards her and spoke, voice full of daring, but laced with meaning.

"Don't hold back, Alex," he told her softly, eyes piercing into the side of her head until she turned to look at him, her hazel meeting his blue, full of questions.

It wasn't lost on her that he used her first name for what was probably only the third time since her arrival in 1982.

Nor did it escape her that, on that fateful first day, these same words had passed between them with a very different meaning and outcome; then, they were said in joy and flirtation and now... now they were full of trepidation, of vulnerability and uncertainty...

But as she looked at him, seeing the daring glint in his eyes, combined with that slight hint of weakness and fond emotion, she found the answers to all of the unresolved questions whirring through her brain, and suddenly she found herself leaning towards him, slower than she could ever remember moving in her whole life, eyes riveted on him...

Gene followed suit, leaning forward with his eyes locked on hers, neither bothering to look at anything else, and it was only when they were nose-to-nose that they thought to tilt their heads aside... But whichever way he leaned, so did she, and eventually Gene pulled slightly back, rubbing awkwardly at his neck as he scowled at her. Frustrated, he muttered, "You go left an' I'll go right."

Alex frowned, "that won't work..."

"'course it will, both going opposite directions that way!" he dropped his hand from his neck and placed it nervously on his own leg, "bloody genius, me!"

"No-" she started to argue, then changed tact. "Ok... you go left..."

Gene narrowed his eyes. "You always 'ave to undermine me don't you, posh-knickers? I say go left, so you decide that you'll go right instead!" He didn't resist doing as she instructed, though, tilting his face aside and looking at her expectantly.

She smiled nervously at his apparent obedience, eyes not leaving his as she leant to the side, slowly leaning in to within a few inches of his face and stopping, looking at him questioningly...

She saw him gulp, heard him mutter 'shit' under his breath... and then they'd both leant in, brushed lips, and simultaneously jerked away to their opposite windows, staring out into the street in silence, Gene pushing his fist against his mouth to stop himself swearing, whilst Alex bit her lip and silently cursed herself; she hadn't expected fireworks and violins, but they'd both acted like nervous teenagers playing spin-the-bottle and barely managed a whole second... what if she'd blown it completely, and that was her last chance? He wouldn't want to spend the night anymore, he'd be awkward and far-off and she'd have to pretend she didn't mind that he was going to move all of his stuff from her flat, go back to his own house, and sleep alone or, worse, with numerous strippers of the same integrity as the previous nights adventures... and they'd have to work together, and she'd have to pretend it never happened, and – no, she thought, stop panicking.

Gene, meanwhile, was closing his eyes and reprimanding himself for not having grabbed her by the face and kissed her into a frenzy, instead of following her instructions, leaning to the left and settling for a barely-there brush of the lips... it was almost as bad as those kisses his Aunt Jane used to force on him at Christmas parties, despite his obvious chagrin and his evident dislike when she pulled at his cheeks and called him 'Geney-weeny'...

And, he thought, it didn't help that Alex had built up both his and her expectations by listening to that god-awful song; because if that song was anything to go by, his kiss hadn't said 'I love you', but instead practically screamed 'I'm an incompetent virgin whose never been kissed- please take pity on me.' He'd had enough first kisses to know that they weren't always good, but he'd never pulled away actually doubting his ability... Looking across at her, he saw her looking out the window, lip indented where her tooth was teasing at it lightly, as though she were worried, nervous, upset even...

With a stifled groan, he muttered, "that was bloody awful!" And instantly, the tension-which had previously had been thick enough to cut with a knife- was broken, and Alex's face split into a grin that, evidently, agreed with his deductions.

"It wasn't the best," she conceded, mouth tilting up at the corners. They stared for a few moments, both searching for something else to say, before Gene cleared his throat, starting up the car and pulling away, racing back to the station, as though if he drove at breakneck speed he could leave the memory of their abysmal kiss behind him... When he pulled up outside the station, however, his hopes were dashed as he looked over at her.

In the five minute drive, they'd said nothing, and now Gene wondered how best to approach the situation. Somehow, 'sorry I kiss like a pansy' didn't quite cut it, and anything else seemed either too over the top or too blasé and uncaring... He could quite imagine her face if he turned around and said 'look, love, I've never had any complaints before, it must be your fault', and wasn't quite ready to have an argument based on their kissing ability...

So he decided to avoid the topic altogether, turning the key in the ignition and saying, with as much normality as possible, "right, come on Bols, lets bang up some scum an' we'll be in Luigi's by dinnertime!"

The silence that followed told him he would have been safer going with the pansy comment; a look of hurt flashed across Alex's face, which she quickly attempted to cover up by turning away and reaching for the door handle. "Yes, Guv..." she muttered, fingers closing on the handle, face turned away from him...And suddenly he didn't care about sounding rough-and-tough, or the fact they were parked up directly in front of the station with a high probability that someone would walk out and see them, and before he'd really thought about it, his hand was shooting out to clasp her wrist in his hold, tugging her back as she went to open the door, other hand cupping her cheek as he twisted her face to look him in the eye, shifting forwards and towering above her, heart in his chest as he looked her in the face...

Tears glistened on the surface of her eyes, and he felt himself shatter, his resolve splintering; he'd told himself nearly three weeks ago that he couldn't be with her because he knew he would hurt her, and that he _wouldn't_ be with her for that very reason... and yet now, he didn't know which side of the line between friend and partner he stood on... He didn't want to hurt her, and yet his side-stepping their kiss had left in her eyes a pain he had witnessed only once- when she spoke of Molly.

And suddenly his primal instinct was to banish that fear and pain from her, to hold her, to comfort her, to press his mouth to hers and kiss away any doubts she might have... And, having stared down into her eyes for nearly thirty seconds as he debated that very scenario, with an intensity in his eyes that was slowly melting her stomach, Gene moved to close the gap between them, pressing their lips together with a wonderful mix of tenderness and ferocity. Both of his hands moved now to cup her face, holding it prone in his hands as he coaxed her mouth into submission, tongue teasing against her lips lightly before increasing the pressure of his mouth, teeth nibbling and chewing softly on her lower lip before he deepened his attentions considerably, Alex's mouth responding enthusiastically beneath his, opening and allowing the gentle entanglement of tongues...

When he pulled away, he stayed close enough that their mouths were barely more than two inches apart, his breath hot on her face and eyes still vaguely unfocused, not daring to pull back in case she overcame the moment of breathlessness and decided to slap him...

But she said nothing, simply staring into his eyes with a glazed look he couldn't quite place, her hand slowly trailing up over his chest, across his shoulder and up to his neck, stroking and caressing the skin tentatively, transfixed by the sheer masculinity of him in such close proximity.

"Better," he muttered softly, eyes still locked on hers. And even though it was not a question, Alex nodded her agreement.

"Yes," she said softly. "Much better..." And it was; as she subconsciously licked her lips to savour the last remnants of his taste, she was surprised by the warmth of him, the delightful combination of flavours that inhabited his mouth... It was unashamedly whiskey and cigarettes, but beneath that there lay a hint of spice and sweetness that she neither expected nor thought necessary, but which added an extra delight to the experience and made her seriously consider repeating it...

Gene moved his head slightly in an almost imperceptible nod, pressing his lips to hers only briefly before pulling back, releasing her entirely and stepping out of the car without another word, shutting his door and strolling around to pull hers open, smirking at the sight of her raising a finger to her lips in something akin to disbelief.

"Come on Fizzy-knickers," he said, holding the door open and bending down to look at her. "Don't care 'ow good a kisser I am, you ain't sitting on that scrawny arse of yours all day. Move it!"

Alex nodded, unfastening her seatbelt and slipping her legs out of the car; as she stood up, she caught her foot on the kerb, stumbling forwards into Gene's hold, brain barely registering anything but the scent of his aftershave in her nostrils. She could feel his chuckle resonating from deep within his chest, and was about to reprimand him when his hand slid gently over the curve of her arse, mouth teasing against her ear as he spoke. "This arse is definitely too good to be sat on, Bolly..." with a soft slap to her denim-clad behind, he turned away, hearing Alex's squeak of surprise and smirking to himself as he began to ascend the steps into CID.

---

Walking back into the office, Gene was greeted by Ray, whose face was solemn and uncharacteristically drawn. With a glance around the office, he saw the same expression on the faces of everyone else.

"Raymondo, you've got a face like a pigs arse; what's 'appened?"

Ray chewed on gum for a few seconds, then gulped and muttered, "we got a confession for Jeremy McKellen, Guv..."

Gene frowned. "You what?"

"Rang up an hour ago, me an' Chris went an' picked 'er up- didn't even blink." He took a drag on the cigarette in his hand, which shook visibly as he lowered it again, smoke clouding his face as he exhaled deeply and with an air of nervousness.

"Who is it?" Gene asked, though he had a sinking suspicion he already knew, and as soon as he felt Alex at his side, tense and quiet, he knew she was thinking the same thing

"It's 'is Missus, Guv," Ray said, "Amanda McKellen."

---

**Mage of the Heart**


	13. Tapes and Telephones

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

To Alex's relief, Ray and Chris had already interviewed Amanda, and Rosa McKellen's mother now sat in the cells alone, sobbing constantly, legs pulled up to her chest and pretty face wrecked by tears and bleeding make-up. Looking through the hatch at her, Alex was filled with a mixture of revulsion and pity; pity, for the woman who lost her daughter to brutalities beyond belief, and yet revulsion, at the fact the same woman could commit a similar crime to the man she had once sworn to share a life with, to love until death parted them...

"You reckon she's tellin' the truth?" Gene asked when she had slid the hatch up again, leaning against the wall with a cigarette caught between his lips, eyes not faltering as they fixated on hers. Alex half-shrugged and half-nodded, slumping against the wall beside him and leaning her head back onto the concrete wall behind her, contemplating briefly before speaking out.

"I hope not," she said quietly, "but for some reason, I can't help but believe her."

Gene frowned, taking another drag on his cigarette before saying, "you think she's a murderer?" His voice rang with disbelief, and Alex shook her head.

"I don't believe it was planned for a second... but I can quite imagine her acting on pent-up anger in a moment of rage and directing it all onto him." She looked round to find him staring straight at the metal door that separated them from Amanda's wretched sobs of despair. "Don't you think so?"

Stubbing out his cigarette, he muttered, "let's listen to the tape, Bols... then we'll see, 'ey?" And with that, he turned away from her, heading back to his office with Alex close on his heels.

---

"You're tellin' me you killed yer 'usband?" Ray's voice echoed from the tape player on Gene's desk, whilst Gene sat in his leather chair, one arm supporting his chin as he stared, the other dangled over the armrest on which Alex sat, balancing herself precariously on the plastic arm with his forearm grazing against her arse, the two of them staring at the small black box, which currently rested atop a large stack of ignored paperwork, trepidation and fear coursing through their veins.

"Yes..." Amanda McKellen's voice was cracked, despairing, and Gene could feel Alex tense against his arm, slipping his hand to her outer thigh and gently caressing it in a tentative gesture of comfort, not moving his gaze or even changing his expression as he stared thoughtfully at the tape player.

"An' you're tellin' me you _wanted_ to come 'ere an' tell us?" Ray was evidently hiding disbelief and annoyance; his voice was clipped, tight, and it was clear to both Gene and Alex that his temper was close to snapping.

"Yes... yes... I did it... I'm sorry... I did it..." More sobbing, a snort that sounded almost like someone blowing in a hanky, and then Chris's softer voice cutting in amongst her sobs and anguished tears.

"D'you fancy a cuppa, love?" It was almost comic in its value, with Chris' compassionate sounding voice offering an everyday beverage, completely contradicting the harsh sobs emanating from Amanda and the heavy, angry breathing of Ray as they sat there in the interview room discussing a murder confession...

Another snort, this time of grief mixed with baffled amusement, "no... No... I just... I didn't _mean_ to!" Her voice was panicked again, increasing slowly in pitch, and Alex could imagine Amanda glancing frantically from Ray to Chris as though searching for something, anything; a sign of understanding, perhaps, a nod... from Ray's voice, she assumed that Amanda never received any such thing.

"So you killed your 'usband?" Ray asked again.

"Yes..."

A pause, and then Chris interjected with a timid, "how?"

"What d'you mean how, you poofter?" Ray asked, "you bloody know 'ow! You heard from the Guv didn't yer? They bloody-"

"She might not know though, mate... She might not know anything at all. Gotta ask, ain't yer? Everything-"

"-is significant," Alex finished, nodding along with Chris's disembodied voice. Gene sighed.

"You've bloody brainwashed 'im, Bols... you an' Sam both..." he muttered half-heartedly, falling quiet once more when Amanda's voice sounded afresh.

"I was... I was upstairs... I'd come round to see him in the morning because... because I needed him... and... And he was down in the living room when the door went... it was your lot -that Hunt and Drake pair... Anyway, I'd known they were going to come because... well, because they'd asked questions about him... only, when I was coming down to sit with him, I heard him talking about Rosa... and I'd heard it all before, of course I had... but it was... it was different somehow... like he wasn't hiding anything from them two..." her breathing was heavy, laboured, and full of emotion that caused Alex's throat to tighten. "Told them about how he couldn't stand looking at her – he couldn't look at his own baby!" At this a wail swept over the conversation and both Gene and Alex flinched at the high pitched intonation and the unashamed volume of the mothers' grief.

"And then he said she wasn't even his- hadn't been for eleven years! And how could anyone say that about their baby, Detective? I was angry... I was_so_ angry!" There was a long pause, in which Amanda's breathing remained heavy and both Ray and Chris stayed in uncharacteristic silence, nothing being said and, if the lack of noise was anything to go by, no actions being taken.

Alex's mind whirred with thought as she stared at the tape in pain, imagining the unbearable heartache of hearing your child's other parent openly disown them, admit their inability to look at them... when Alex had listened to Jeremy, as an outsider to the family, it had been apparent to her that whatever feelings Jeremy housed for Rosa now and in the recent past, they had once been warm, flourishing flowers of care, the same as any other father, which had since been caught in a blisteringly cold winter wind and turned to ice...

From Amanda's point of view, though, Alex could only imagine the hurt and pain that those words had caused; almost like a heated knife plunging into the depths of her heart, implanting rage and hatred such as she had probably never known, nor would ever want to know again... The thought of Peter, disowning Molly as Jeremy had done to Rosa, made her blood boil, and she supposed that the final nail in the coffin for Amanda was that Jeremy had still been with her, still declared his love and commitment to their marriage but refused to accept Rosa as having any part in it...

"They left after that... DCI Hunt was angry and Drake followed him straight off. I had to run into the kitchen to hide from them, because I didn't want them to know I was eavesdropping, and there was this knife there where he'd been cutting the bread for our lunch, and it was just staring at me like-"

"Bloody 'ell," Ray growled quietly, "knives do not stare you plonk! Now are you gunna fess up proper like, or are we gunna sit 'ere and let you animate a teacup and a wooden spoon? 'cause if we are, I fancy a fag an' a biccy... then maybe we can 'ave a little tea party with all your kitchen utensils, 'ey Miss?"

Alex heard Gene snort in amusement and turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. Gene shrugged himself back into what he thought was a professional demeanour and said, in his most serious voice, "sounded like a good question to me, Bols."

At that, Alex laughed too, shaking her head and turning back to the tape, the small smile which tugged at her lips wiped away as Amanda's anecdote continued on. "You don't understand," she was saying, her voice desperate, lost... "I wasn't myself it just... it took me over! I didn't _want_ to kill him! I really didn't!" There was a pause, then a whisper, "I just got _so_ angry... And when I walked in he denied it all, said he hadn't disowned her, that he loved her, but he just couldn't bear to see her so broken... and I snapped!" She sobbed again, her words difficult to decipher as she whimpered her apologies, over and over, "I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry, but I killed him! I'm a horrible, horrible person! "I'm sorry... I'm so, so, sorry!" I'm an awful woman and-" It was there that Gene stopped the tape, fingers pressing down hard on the stop button as he felt Alex stiffen in recognition of the same downward stoop in self-esteem that the other woman had experienced in the aftermath of Rosa's death.

"Why'd you stop it?" Alex said softly, not looking at him, eyes resting on his fingers as they rested on the desk, her throat dry.

"Do you really need to hear anything else?" He asked, though they both understood that wasn't the reason for his stopping the tape; she didn't need to listen to that all over again. "She knew what was said, she knew I left angry and that you followed me, and she knew the murder weapon was a bread-knife," he elaborated, as though to disprove the fact he didn't want her to suffer, "I'd say she's got it down to the T and we can be in Luigi's by six." He checked his watch pointedly, and nodded. "I'll get onto Bronson and see what 'e's got."

With a gentle slap to her thigh, he silently indicated that she should leave the office as he leant for the telephone, but she chose instead to remain where she was, raising an eyebrow at him in mock-daring; with a sigh, he dialled the number, put the receiver to his ear, and settled back into the leather cushioning of his desk-chair. As the dialling tone echoed in his ear, he muttered cheekily to her, "insubordinate cow," before moving his hand slightly to place another affectionate slap on her behind, smirking when she responded by glaring pointedly at him.

"Hello?" The voice at the other end said, and Gene waggled his eyebrows at Alex as he gently rubbed her through the denim, speaking calmly and easily into the phone.

"Bronson? It's Hunt. Tell me you've got something."

----

The forensic lab had fast become an everyday setting for their work, and though Alex was used to it, it still made her skin crawl; she didn't think she would ever become immune to the complete lack of humanity that echoed through the room in the smell of disinfectant and the sight of dead flesh...

Once they had entered, Bronson ambled up to them in a brown tweed suit, motioning for them to follow him over to a table, on which he had placed the breadknife and covered it with a protective layer to stop any further contamination.

"Definitely the weapon," Bronson said, -as though there had been any doubt in the finding of a bloodied bread-knife clumsily hidden at the crime scene- before continuing. "We dusted for prints, and we found some, but there's no match in our files; you say you've had a confession?"

Gene nodded. "'is old Missus."

Bronson rolled his eyes, "there's a surprise," he muttered sarcastically. Gene nodded curtly, while Alex remained silent, arms crossed over her chest as Bronson went on. "If you can get her prints over here, we'll have a clearer idea of whether it was her or not, and then we can-"

Alex handed over a fingerprint swab with a satisfied smirk at the look of surprise, and, dare she think it, respect, on Gene's face. "There; it's got every finger. How long will it take?"

Bronson blinked, and then shrugged, "we'll have it back by tomorrow at the latest I expect..."

Alex nodded, just as Gene spoke up. "What about the stiff?" he asked, nodding over towards the covered corpse, "Anythin' more?"

With a sigh, Bronson led them over to the body-slab, drawing down the white blanket covering Jeremy McKellen's once-handsome, now pale and sickly, face. "There's strong bruising on the back of the scalp, presumably from hitting his head on the floor when he fell... recently had sex, hadn't eaten much that day... cuts to the stomach, shoulder, wrist, forearm and below the left rib... died from loss of blood. There's slight bruising around the neck area, too, quite recent- but could have been at least an hour or two before the death..."

At this, Alex heard Gene breathe a sigh of relief, and bit her lip at the memory of Gene lifting Jeremy off the floor by the scruff of his shirt. Covering her mouth, she looked at Gene, who looked reasonably sombre as Bronson continued.

"...and other than that there's nothing that you didn't see for yourself at the crime scene; Lots of cuts, varying depth, same weapon for each one... some used a different side of the blade but they all match up... and once we get them fingerprints back, you'll probably be able to cuff 'em and stuff 'em in a day without trouble... providing there's a match of course."

Gene nodded. "Right... Good... C'mon, Bols, nothin' new 'ere; let's go." He swept from the room, hands in his pockets, and Alex followed obediently with a polite nod at Bronson, who didn't seem at all put out by their sudden departure, settling back to his desk and searching through a file.

---

Turning on her in the Quattro, he met her eyes, arm resting on the steering wheel as he muttered, "you might be right... about the statements, I mean... 'cause that wouldn' 'ave looked good, would it, if they were big bruises?"

Alex blinked, torn between shock and understanding at his worry. "You'll give a statement?_"_

Gene nodded, face grim. "I nearly got banged up for murder once before Bols, an' I don't fancy that 'appening by mistake again, ok?"

Alex nodded. "Ok... Let's go back then," she reached for her seatbelt, clipping it in and looking at him expectantly. Gene snorted, rolling his eyes at her obsessive personal safety.

"You really do act like a bloody nun, you know? You don' need a bloody seat belt- 'ave you ever seen me crash this car, Bolly?" His voice was teasing, but Alex shrugged, wriggling in her seat to get comfortable and looking at him, her belt remaining safely across her chest.

"It's the passenger in the car that gets thrown through the window pane, Gene; I'd rather stay safe." With a smirk, she raised a hand and indicated towards the road. "Shall we?"

His eyes trailed over her critically before he nodded, slowly, replying softly, "yeah... best to keep your arse safe in that seat, I s'pose... means I can give it a good squeeze later." With a lecherous grin, he swerved the car out of its parking spot, heading back towards the station.

---

Having both handed in their statements – with Alex relentlessly picking details from Gene so that there was no question as to his actions and intentions– and delivered them to Superintendent Harrison, Gene and Alex were cleared for working the case, and spent the rest of the afternoon chasing after petty thieves and a particularly nasty mugger. At six, they headed for Luigi's, settling themselves into their customary table and ordering a bottle of house red.

"You still reckon she did it?" Gene asked, thoughtfully swilling the wine in his glass as he questioned her.

"Yes," she said softly. After a brief pause, she whispered, "do you?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

Alex bit her lip before asking, "do you think she killed Rosa, too?"

Gene shook his head. "No. And neither do you." He glared at her pointedly across the table before settling in to enjoy his drink.

And there the conversation ended, with both of them draining their glasses and reaching for a top-up, without the exchange of words, silent in their companionship until the last dregs had trickled down their throats and Alex was smiling meekly across at him. "I suppose it's time for bed..." a brief pause, and then, in a quieter tone, "I'll see you upstairs?"

Gene glanced at her and nodded imperceptibly, muttering "ten minutes" under his breath before saying, at a more normal volume, "night Bols."

She smiled, waved goodbye to the rest of the team, and left. Gene joined Ray for a whiskey, excusing himself after ten minutes and heading out the front exit, driving the Quattro round the corner before slipping back through the side door and sneaking up to Alex's flat, grinning to himself at the now familiar sense of mischief and teenage daring that came every time he evaded the rest of the team's scrutiny.

He let himself in without hesitance and joined her on the sofa with easy familiarity.

---

Settling down, they both recognized the sudden difference that had crept up on them throughout that day, through the simple placement of hands.

It wasn't like they hadn't done this before; by now, slipping onto the sofa and adopting a comfortable horizontal position in which Gene allowed Alex's head to rest calmly on his chest was the norm, but now it was different; there was a line that had been crossed and both of them reacted to it with surprising normality.

When Gene had loosened his tie on other nights, Alex had resolutely avoided the bare flesh that peeked out at the open shirt collar, resolving to place her hands only gently on his side, with the thin cotton of his shirt acting like a barrier between whatever stages in their relationship they had been trying to avoid and were yet to overcome; after their kiss that afternoon, she found it only natural to open one extra button on his shirt and slip her hand beneath the fabric to rest against the heat of his own skin and the gentle thud of his heartbeat.

When Alex had slipped between his legs and into the crook of his arm in the past, Gene had kept his hand firmly between the two areas' he had considered off-limits in such an intimate, private moment; her arse, and her bra strap. Tonight, at the same moment her hand moved to rest above his heart, his own hand strayed to the curve of her arse, resting their lightly, fingers dancing and tracing patterns in the denim of her jeans, whilst the other traced the outline of her bra with unerring ease and confidence.

The television was on, but although both of them were facing it, none of the images were really making any impact as they lay there in silence, hands acting as silent ambassadors of speech, clearly stating, in ways that words would never achieve nor compare to, that they were long past the days of a simple colleague relationship, past the days of friendship and the nights of needy comfort... because as their hands wandered, they both understood, they both _knew_ that their kiss had broken down barriers, and that now they stood on foreign soil, faced with the dawning realisation that this was not a hurt and comfort relationship; they needed each other, and were there for each other, yes, but through that, they had come together as something deeper and more meaningful than either could really begin to comprehend...

A loud noise from the TV startled them both from the private reveries of thought, Alex jerking sharply against Gene, who hit his head hard on the arm of the sofa, releasing a string of obscenities and bringing the hand previously resting on her back to gingerly touch the stinging red lump at the back of his head.

"Bugger!" he groaned; "this bloody sofas as hard as a priest's old ding-a-ling!"

Alex laughed softly, settling back into place but keeping her gaze fixed on him, their eyes meeting as a smile tugged at her lips. "Surely not, Gene; they abstain!" Her voice was mocking and full of amusement and he groaned again, grabbing a cushion from the floor and placing it under his head before speaking, arms slipping around her once more.

"Exactly, Bols; abstain for long enough an' the old todger gets more'n a little perky."

Snorting, Alex repeated, "_Perky_?"

Gene glowered at her. "Yes, _perky_."

"I see... and in your opinion, Gene, what else happens to be... _perky_?" The accentuation of the word made him gulp, but his eye contact didn't falter as he pulled her further up towards him, bringing her hips closer to his, breath hot on her skin as he murmured his reply.

"Lots of things Bols..." he told her quietly, hand moving to caress her cheek with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine and sent her stomach into conniptions of joy... "Modern art... the Eiffel tower... Mount Everest... _nipples_..." At the last his eyes glinted wickedly, his hand sliding down to tease the curve of her breast and travelling further south to rest at her waist, mouth twitching into a grin as she bit her lip. All the time, Alex never allowed her eyes to drift away from his, despite the feeling in her stomach that told her, quite clearly, that if she kept staring much longer she was going to melt under his heated gaze...

"Nipples?" She repeated in a slightly squeaky voice, her throat dry with nerves.

Gene nodded, trailing his hand back up to her face and gently stroking the soft flesh of her cheek, "mmm..." he murmured in soft assent. "Yeah... nipples..." he waggled an eyebrow, "are they perky, Bols?"

Alex shifted closer, her gaze flickering from his lips to his eyes as she murmured suggestively, "why don't you take a look yourself?"

Gene's smile flickered away, replaced with a seriousness that made Alex's stomach flip all over again as his mouth moved slowly closer to hers... "I will, Bols," he murmured, "very... very... soon..." He paused with his mouth a mere centimetre from hers, his eyes half-closed. "You gunna kiss me, fizzy-fanny?"

Alex smiled, half closing her eyes as she whispered, "Fizzy-fanny? That's a new one... you're usually very knicker-centric..."

"Mmm..." he nodded, licking his lips subconsciously, "thought it was about time I got you out of 'em..."

She laughed. "Maybe you're right..." she whispered, and closed the gap between their mouths without another moment's hesitation.

---

His hands slid to her arse again, gripping her with both hands and pulling her tight on top of him as her mouth pressed against his, lips caressing and teasing as his body began to respond to the sheer closeness of her, the willingness of her kiss and the glorious promise of _finally_ getting his hands on those _bloody gorgeous_ tits. He opened his mouth slightly, flicking his tongue against her soft lips in a silent plea, a tender request for welcome and acceptance... She responded, parting her lips and allowing his tongue to slowly invade her mouth, twisting and caressing her own as one of his hands slid beneath the fabric of her blouse, seeking out the soft skin of her back, the smooth flesh that tapered up towards that, until-recently, forbidden plane of skin that still remained covered from him by a delicate scrap of fabric.

Alex slipped one hand into Gene's hair, the other working slowly at the buttons of his shirt, popping each one with deliberate lack of haste, eyes closed and allowing their tongues to explore and to taste, to memorise each nook and cavern of their mouths. After several minutes of slow kissing, Alex had undone half of his shirt, abandoning the rest for the sake of slipping her hands beneath its soft fabric, gently tracing the contours of his chest; the flat of his sternum, the soft of his belly, the tender skin at his collarbone that she found caused him to groan into her mouth when she trailed her fingertips across it...

She pressed closer to him, her breasts crushed against his chest whilst her hips ground gently against his, breathing heavy as his fingers slipped beneath the lacy fabric of her strap and made quick work of it, the hooks quickly removed from one another, leaving him separated from his goal only by cotton and lace. His other hand massaged her arse as he rolled her to the side, pressing her into the back of the sofa whilst their mouths proceeded to devour one another with hunger, passion ruling their actions now as Gene began to unfasten the buttons on her blouse, desperate in his quest to uncover what had been, for so long, kept from him, forbidden, illicit...

Pulling away briefly, he tugged the half-unbuttoned blouse up and over her head, quickly discarding it and dropping it over the side of the sofa, returning his mouth to hers for a moment whilst his hands slipped her bra from her arms, dropping it aside carelessly and slipping his lips down over her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, one hand firmly caressing her behind whilst the other moved to cup her now free right breast, a groan escaping his lips as he came into contact with the hard nub of her nipple.

"Feels pretty damn perky t'me, Bolly," he murmured against her lips, shifting down the sofa slowly, mouth pressing soft, chaste kisses to every inch of skin in his path, tongue flicking across her, tasting the saltiness of her flesh before moving to cover her other breast, eyes half-lidded as his brain filled with lustful thoughts and dreams that he had long since tried and failed to displace. His lips encircled her taut nipple, whilst Alex's fingers tangled in his hair, her breathy moans a symphony of beauty to his ears as he sucked and licked at her, his hands massaging and caressing her into shaken pleas of "more... more..."

The bulge in his trousers was pressing against his zipper to the point of pain, and the more he tried to ignore it, to treasure this first sight of her body, the more insistent it became, causing him to dig his nails briefly into Alex's flesh to prevent losing all control. The fact of the matter was, he'd wanted her since the moment he'd laid eye on her, and now here she was, bare-breasted and panting beneath his mouth and hands, and he couldn't contain the excitement and illicit anticipation that rose in his chest, tightening with every second she writhed under his mouth, squeezing at the touch of her hands tangling themselves tightly in his hair, gripping harder when a flick of his tongue was particularly well received, or a brush of his fingers sent particularly delightful shivers down her spine...

After gently grazing her sensitive nipple with his teeth, he pulled away, both hands sliding to her waist as he kissed his way slowly and gently down her stomach, tongue flitting out to tease her belly-button, a grin breaking out on his face as she gasped, writhing slightly, responding to him by sliding one hand down his neck and beneath his shirt, caressing his skin whilst he continued downwards, lips stilling at the waistband of her jeans, scattering kisses along her front as his hands moved to her button, unfastening it quickly and allowing his fingers to tease the zip down, revealing the pale blue of her lacy underwear, listening to her breath hitching as he blew lightly across it in the silence of the room, the quiver and shake of her voice causing him to grip her tightly once again... Alex was gasping and shifting against him, the heat between her legs multiplying until she felt alight with lust, blazing passion and need consuming her; she wanted everything.

Gene was lifting her hips slightly, sliding the jeans down her body to reveal the tops of her creamy thighs, just as the phone rang out. He looked up with a face of thunder, moving up her body to snatch the phone from its cradle, half-amused as he noted Alex's complete befuddlement, before he snapped "Hunt!" into the phone, trying to shift his hips slightly so that the insistent bulge in his trousers didn't press into Alex's stomach.

There was a brief pause, before Viv replied, in stark disbelief, "Guv? Err...Where's DI Drake?"

Gene looked down at her, bare-chested beneath him with her lips swollen and chest heaving... "Err... she's 'aving a ki-... He wanted to say 'kip', but for some reason, telling his staff that their DCI was round the house when his DI was asleep sounded far too taboo a subject, and would only result in rumours that neither of them wanted to deal with right now. "A piss..." he went on, "she's 'aving a piss," he finished talking just as Alex seemed to snap out of her hazy reverie, lifting her fingers to trace the back of his neck whilst her mouth assaulted his chest and collarbone, nipping and licking across his skin whilst he tried to maintain concentration on the words passing almost un-heard through his ears.

"Oh..." Viv sounded uncomfortable and then said, "right... well we need you and her to get down 'ere as quick as possible...Amanda McKellen says she wants to talk to you both tonight, and she's been yelling for the best part of two hours; driving everyone else nuts."

Gene looked pointedly down at the bulge in his trousers, narrowing his eyes, "yeah, an' my nuts are goin' blue," he muttered quietly, just as Alex slid her hand down to flit across his trousers, a devious grin on her face as he gripped her tighter with one arm, pressing his hips firmly down into her now as he attempted to keep her still, an odd whinny of frustration leaving his throat unbidden.

"Sorry, Guv, what was that last bit?" Viv asked, covering up a yawn at the other end.

Gene breathed, attempting to banish the urge to throw the phone away and simply continue with his exploration of Alex's knickers. "Forget it Skipper; I'll tell DI Posh-knickers to get a move on." He glared down at her warningly, and she responded by reaching up to press an open-mouthed kiss to his cheek, tongue flicking out against his stubble and causing flames of lust to spark into life, licking up his whole body against his will.

"Right you are, Guv," Viv said, and hung up, trying to block out the sound of the throaty growl that emanated from Gene's throat.

The second the line had gone dead, Gene groaned, dropping his head to Alex's neck and muttering in her ear; "Amanda McKellen wants a word..." His breath was heavy as he added, "and I need to go an' pull on me todger if we're ever gunna get outta here..."

Alex bit her lip, looking at him coyly before speaking, a smile on her lips, "I could pull on it for you?"

He met her eyes, feeling his resolve falter, but managing to shake his head; they'd never leave if he let her get started, and they both knew it. "Can't, Bols," he said, disappointment evident as he began dislocating himself from their tangle of limbs, grinning down at her as she lay there, completely unashamedly, with her jeans halfway down her thighs and blouse thrown carelessly to the other side of the room.

"Put yer tits away," he said, buttoning up his shirt, "you'll give Skip a heart attack; don' think he's sniffed a woman in months." As he headed for the bathroom, Alex's voice sounded behind him.

"Gene?"

"Yes Bols," he said, turning to look at her.

Alex grinned, "who's as hard as a priest now?"

---

**Much evilness from Mage hehehe!**

**Hope you enjoyed this- let me know :)**

**Mage of the Heart **


	14. For As Long As You're With Me

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

Fifteen minutes later they were entering Amanda McKellen's cell, both of them looking flushed, their clothes slightly messed as a result of hurrying away from the flat. Gene's shirt was crumpled and he'd left his tie on the sofa, keeping the top two buttons open so as not to look overly formal, though in Alex's opinion it practically screamed 'I was about to shag my DI!'

When Viv saw them, he averted his eyes from the glower Gene sent in his direction, pointing them towards the cell with his gaze on the floor. Alex blushed and headed in, whilst Gene kept his eyes fixed on Viv's head, even as they entered the cell.

When they shut the door behind them, they found Amanda curled up in a ball, her body wracked with tearless sobs as she rested her head against the cold concrete of her prison. As they entered, she looked up, her face red and puffy from crying, though it was evident that she had long since exhausted her tear ducts; the tracks on her face had since dried, leaving her eyes simply glistening in the dim light that flickered out of the faulty electric bulb above their heads.

"You came!" She whispered, and shakily extended her legs, staggering towards them on weak limbs, practically falling into Alex as she lifted a hand to her face, shaking and sobbing, head moving from side to side as she gasped in a throaty voice, eyes wide as she stroked her fingers across Alex's cheek. "I didn't mean to do it!" she told her, "I didn't mean to... but you came! You're here! You'll understand – I know you'll understand why I did it! I didn't want to but... but I had to!" As she spoke, she nodded continually, her face split in a crazed smile.

Alex stood frozen, glancing quickly to the side where Gene was staring at the two of them, eyebrows flying up into his floppy hair. At her look, which was slightly panicked and more than a little uncomfortable, Gene shook his head and pulled Amanda away from Alex, grimacing as her hands fastened around his biceps and she began repeating her apologies with her head turned towards him, that same manic expression bright in her eyes before he set her down on the bunk and stepped away, pushing her forcefully backwards the one time she attempted to cling onto him.

"Sit yerself down, love, an' then you can tell us why you called me out 'ere in the dead o' night when I was about to get thoroughly seen to!" With a pointed glare, he crossed his arms and leant against the opposing wall, casting a brief glance to Alex and indicating that she should join him, before turning his eyes back to Amanda, taking her appearance in with disgust.

Her blonde hair was in disarray, sticking out in impressive peaks and looking as though it hadn't been washed or brushed in days. Her light blue blouse was dotted with small yellow flowers, but against her chest there was a deep red stain that spread out from her heart and faded out... Amanda caught the two of them looking and sobbed. "It's his..." she sobbed. "I didn't mean to do it... he just made me so angry! Please – I can't go to jail! I can't! I'll die in there! I can't do it!"

"Should've thought about that before you clocked the bugger one then you daft plonk!" Gene growled, now reaching into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette and a light, never wavering in his eye contact. Amanda sobbed, turning her gaze to Alex.

"Please... you understand, don't you? Have you got children?" Her eyes were full of desperation, and Alex was nodding before Gene had the chance to open his mouth. With a sigh, he rested his head back on the wall, blowing smoke upwards, wondering briefly why all women with children felt as though they should clasp hands and sing ring-a-ring-a-roses together; after all, all men had a penis, but you wouldn't have caught him running up to a male copper and claiming this as a reasonable excuse for murder...

"Then you understand!" Amanda said desperately, looking at Alex with a strange sense of neediness. "If their father said all those things – all those terrible things he said to you about my Rosa – what would you have done?" Her voice was cracking and splintering with emotion and Alex blinked away tears.

"I'd have been upset." She admitted, "Heartbroken, probably... but I would never have been able to kill him..."

Amanda shook her head fiercely. "No... No, you don't understand- I'm _not _a killer! Look at me! I'm not a murderer! I'm not!" She looked from one to the other in loss and desperation, then sobbed, settling her gaze solely on Alex; "you could never understand how it felt until you were there... I didn't want to do it- I loved him! But it just happened so fast... I couldn't help it!"

There was a glint in Amanda's eyes that caused Alex to shiver, and Gene glanced at her instantly, eyes full of concern even though he made no attempt to move towards her.

"It just... I felt so _powerful_!" Amanda's voice was full of wonder, of amazement, an almost lusting caress lilting through her words as she sat there, staring at her hands now, clenching her fingers as though remembering the feel of the blade in their grasp... "It was like being God," she told them softly, "like I was all-powerful... it's been so long since I was in control of anything..." she looked stunned and non-plussed, and Alex's stomach churned, vomit rising in her throat at the loving note that resonated in Amanda's voice. "I'd kill anyone for my Rosa," she whispered, fingers flexing, her body quaking as she went into renewed sobs. "She was perfect!" She looked up at Alex again, manic and crazed as she whispered, "wouldn't you kill for your baby, Inspector?"

"That's enough." Gene growled, feeling Alex tense with anger and grief at his side. "You better start talking now 'cause I ain't sticking around to hear about your love-affair with the breadknife! What's so urgent you kick up a fit in the middle of the night?"

Amanda looked from one to the other in evident confusion, "I already said..." she answered softly, "I need you to make sure I don't go to prison!"

There was a long silence, and then suddenly Gene snorted in derision, whilst Alex continued to stare in disbelief. "Think you came to the wrong people, love," Gene said. "We bang murderers up; we don't send 'em 'ome with a warm blanket and a cuppa!"

"But I didn't mean to do it!" Amanda whispered, "you understand that, don't you? I didn't want to kill him and... And I can't go to prison! I just can't!"

"You're going." Gene said bluntly, staring at the bloodied blouse briefly before he began to walk across the room, ignoring her protests and briefly brushing Alex's arm before he walked across the room and hammered hard on the door. "Skipper! Get in here and bag up this tarts blouse as evidence, you useless prat! We're coming out!"

---

They sat in his office, Alex perched on the edge of the desk while Gene reclined in his comfortable leather chair, a cigarette smoking between his lips as he looked at her. After minutes of silence, he spoke up, voice surprisingly gentle. "What you thinkin', Bolly?"

Alex sighed, leaning back on her hands and looking towards the ceiling. "I don't know..." she paused, bit her lip, and then whispered softly, "she won't survive a week in prison, Gene, let alone a life sentence..."

He nodded sourly, eyes fixed on his leather shoes as he exhaled. "I know, Bols... but I ain't letting a murdering bitch loose on my patch just because she's too poncy for jail!"

Alex sighed. She didn't expect him to say anything different, really, but it didn't sit right with her conscience to send a grieving mother to prison...

"She got inside your 'ead didn't she?" Gene said softly, seeing the pain in her eyes, watching the lines of her face tightening in a grimace.

"She was just angry, Gene..." Alex replied, voice gentle and reeking of pain and hurt. "I... I can't imagine what she must have been feeling, hearing him say those things..."

Rolling his eyes, Gene muttered, "he left her eleven years ago Bols; she'd probably heard it all before and-"

"But she had Rosa before," Alex answered quickly, "Someone to protect, someone to look after... and now she hasn't anymore..." She could hear the desperate argument rising in her voice, feel tears pricking at her eyes and pain clenching her stomach... And then Gene was out of his chair, standing in front of her with her face between his hands, looking at her with tenderness and worry etched into each line on his face, each fleck of colour in his eyes filled with concern...

"You're making excuses for her, Bolly," he whispered, a tender caress of his fingertips swiping over her cheeks as his breath teasingly wafted into her nostrils. "She's a mother and you reckon she's all good beneath it all because of it... but we ain't here to decide who's good and who's not- we're here to put murdering scum safely behind bars and stop 'em killin' again..." His thumb traced across her cheekbone again gently enough to betray the gruffness of his tone, his eyes boring into hers with desperation as he went on. "Just 'cause she's a mother doesn't mean she can't be guilty..." He tangled his fingers briefly in her hair, caressing her scalp with their tips as he murmured, "you've done this a thousand times Bols... don't let her kid you into thinking she's different..."

"But she is, Gene," Alex whispered helplessly, raising her fingers to trace his arm lightly. "She is..."

His face moved closer, so that their noses were nearly touching as he growled, "she's scum Bols. Just like every other bastard criminal we lock up day-in and day-out... she's a murdering bitch! Just 'cause she pushed a little toe-rag out of 'er fanny seventeen years ago doesn't mean she's the bloody Angel Gabriel!" He tilted her face up to his with surprising force when she moved to answer back, "and don't you dare try and convince me it's what any mother would've done!" he growled. "Because I know me old Mam, and she'd sooner kick me up the arse with a spiked boot and a smokin' gun than kill anyone! And I know you, and I bloody hope I'm right in thinking you'd stick on the right side of the law!"

Alex stared at him, and then suddenly she began to sob, grasping at him desperately as she fell forwards against his chest, her body surrendering the last reserves of energy as she wept into his shirt. Gene cringed, nervously and tentatively wrapping his arms around her as he wondered what the hell he was meant to do; it was Alex, not him, that was good with all that 'talking to people' bollucks, and at the moment, it didn't look like Alex was capable of putting together two syllables, let alone forming a whole sentence... so he didn't know what to do... talking was out of the question...

As was kissing her...

As was pushing her down onto his desk and finishing off what they'd started barely an hour and a half ago from the comfort of her sofa...

So he did the same thing he'd done the first night she'd called for his help; he held her. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, his arms acting as a shelter from the horrors that haunted her mind, enveloping her in his hold with his lips pressed tenderly to her forehead, hands tracing patterns in her back. "You're alright, Bolly," he told her quietly. "You're ok..."

She clung to him tighter, tears leaving a warm patch on his shirt before she eventually lifted her head to look at him, eyes wide and bright as she whispered, "I want to go home..."

Gene visibly flinched, pain shooting through him like electricity; home. Home, to Molly... Home, to wherever it was she came from... Home, to the daughter she hadn't seen in over a year, and to whatever colleagues and friends she'd left behind... home... away from him...

With a sigh, he gulped, pulled her closer again, and turning his head away to resist the temptation of smelling her hair... "I don't know 'ow to get you 'ome, Bols," he whispered. "I'm sorry..."

She lifted her head again, drawing back from the comfort of his hold to look at him, confusion evident in her gaze as she whispered, "carry me?" Gene blinked. Alex's hand squeezed slightly on his shoulder as she continued, "I just want to go to sleep, Gene... please?"

He nodded, attempting to hide the overwhelming relief swirling in the pit of his stomach that said she wasn't leaving, and battling the urge to kiss away the fear and uncertainty that rose in her voice. "Yeah... ok... c'mon..."

In a slow, tender movement, he had slipped his arm under her knees, the other around her back as he lifted her up, cradling her against his chest and standing stock still for a brief moment as she slid her arms around his neck, head resting beneath his chin as she sighed softly, breath teasing over his skin before he lifted her up, softly drawing her closer to his chest as he carried her out of the office, squeezing the two of them through the door before carrying her out into the street. Her whole body was limp and weak, and as he held her, he realized for the first time how thin she was, how slight her frame had become in recent weeks... It wasn't dangerous, but it was noticeable, and something in the pallor of her skin was missing; the glow he had adored from a distance was slowly fading as the traumas of the case took their toll, and he vowed in that moment that, until her skin was flush and bright again, he wouldn't leave her side.

---

Gene had to set her down at the entrance to her flat, not trusting himself to search through her pockets for the keys without dropping her to the floor. Alex fumbled with her keychain, opening the door and reaching for Gene's hand as she led him in, drawing him into the kitchen where she poured them both an overly-generous half-glass of whiskey, throwing hers down her throat in two large gulps. Gene blinked, sipping at his own whilst his eyes assessed her quietly, taking in the puffiness of her eyes, the narrow set of her mouth, and realizing that whatever hopes he might have had for that evening before they returned to the station were dashed... and though he was slightly disappointed, he was surprised to find that he didn't mind, and that he was willing to wait as long as she needed to feel comfortable with the idea...

"C'mon, Bols," he murmured, draining his glass and setting it down on the kitchen unit, "let's get you to bed." As the glass clinked to the surface, he stretched out a hand, watching with a strange, foreign warmth in his stomach as she slipped her fingers into his. With a gentle tug, he led her towards the bedroom, turning to her at the foot of the bed and tracing his fingers lightly down her neck.

"Better now?" He asked quietly, voice soft, though the traditional gruffness of his tone remained.

Alex, in answer, cupped his cheek softly, eyes fixed on his as she whispered, "not quite," and leant forwards to capture his lips briefly with her own. Gene's arm slid around her waist, pulling her close as her tongue softly intertwined with his, her gentle hand still tenderly caressing his cheek as his eyes fluttered closed in blissful enjoyment. A few moments later, he pulled back from her, placing a gentle peck to the corner of her lips before resting their foreheads together.

"Now?"

Alex nodded, hand tracing down the length of his arm before twisting her fingers around his. "Much better," she answered, smiling slightly before pulling away, moving to the wardrobe and rifling through for something to sleep in.

"Have you seen any of my t-shirts?" she asked, turning to Gene expectantly. Gene raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as he sat on the bottom of her bed, shaking his head from side to side repeatedly. Alex swore. Laughing, Gene began to unbutton his own shirt, grinning as she continued to throw clothes aside in her drawer, tossing out blouses and summer dresses and underwear whilst he watched, mouth fixed in an amused smirk. When she eventually pulled out a hideous yellow blouse decorated with large and horrific daisies that, by the look on her face, she couldn't remember or understand buying, Gene took pity on her, shrugging out of his own shirt and walking up behind her.

His hand lightly touched to her waist and she shot up, gasping and spinning around so fast she nearly lost her balance. Her hand fell on his chest, breath short as she realized just how close together they were, eyes trailing over his torso appreciatively as he grinned, pulling her close.

"If you so much as think of wearing that poncy blouse to bed I'll be forced to rip it off you, and since neither of us is really in the right state of mind for that anymore..." he held up his own shirt and raised an eyebrow at her, "this do?"

Alex looked from his face to the offered shirt several times before she nodded, hesitantly taking it from his fingers and smiling nervously. Gene nodded in reply, eyes fixing on hers once more before he leant in to brush their lips together, and then walked off into the bathroom.

---

Having brushed his teeth and smoked one final cigarette, Gene re-entered the bedroom, finding Alex just beginning to button up his shirt, revealing, to his great delight, that she had opted to sleep without a bra, the curve of her breast painstakingly obvious as she deftly worked the buttons with her fingers. Stifling a groan, Gene approached her from behind, sliding a hand around her waist as his lips fell to her neck, eyes open as he watched her fingers tremble and quiver whilst she attempted to continue buttoning up his shirt. He grinned into her skin, gently nibbling as he reached around to help her, his fingers replacing hers with ease and confidence, quickly slipping buttons into holes until the shirt was pleasantly secured around her, but remained low cut enough for him to see an ample amount of cleavage. His fingers lingered behind, resting on the button between her breasts, debating briefly whether it would be too forward to undo the button in question before pulling his hand away. A moment later he was kissing his way up her neck and over her jaw, pressing his lips lightly to the soft skin that for so long had been untouchable, revelling in the newfound ability to touch her as he pleased...

"Better get some kip," he murmured softly, lips never leaving her skin as his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest and savouring the unmistakeable and irrepressible scent of his own aftershave mixing with the soft smell of her skin... With one last, lingering kiss to her pulse, he turned her around, smirking in self-assured smugness at the breathless look on her face. "C'mon," he murmured, "gotta work tomorrow an' I ain't letting you waltz in late."

With a playful shove, she fell back on the duvet, laughing as she reached for him and tugged him down next to her, wrapping her arms around his neck as he fell to her side, a rare smile dawning on his mouth as he looked down at her, eyes full of laughter, his fingers trailing over her leg softly, in a tender caress that was neither heated nor lustful, but that still managed to turn her stomach into a molten pool of desire.

"Gene..." she whispered, reaching out to stroke his cheek, caressing the slight growth of stubble that scattered across his skin as she looked him in the eye. "Do you think she loved him?"

Gene shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze as he muttered, "I dunno, Bols... maybe."

She sat up slightly, propping herself on her elbows as she spoke again, bringing her face within an inch of his as she murmured, "could you kill someone you loved?"

He flinched, closing his eyes briefly before whispering, "I couldn't kill anyone, Bolly... not like that."

Her hand slid across his chest as she spoke again, fingers tracing lines in the warm skin that covered his racing heart, "so you wouldn't... you couldn't kill someone... not even if it... if it was like with Rosa? If... if they wanted to die?" She sought his eyes with her own, but when she found them they were hard and serious, his hand moving to grip her chin as he looked into her face with such intensity that she shivered.

"I wouldn't kill anyone." He repeated, keeping his voice dangerously low.

Alex gulped, tracing his lips with her thumb and staring at them in a mixture of nervousness and transfixion, "what if... if their lives were miserable, and if they couldn't be happy in this world... could you kill them then?"

"No." He answered, hand still holding her chin. "I couldn't. Now stop."

He let go, rolling to the side and staring at the ceiling as he listened to the hitch of her breath, the sharp intake of air before she whispered, "what if it was me?"

He closed his eyes, feeling an unnerving wave of nausea sweep over him before he turned back to her, resting his forehead against Alex's as he inhaled the floral scent of her, treasured the feel of her beneath his fingertips... When their eyes locked again he spoke, voice gravelly and full of emotion she would not have expected, nor knew how to comprehend.

"No Bolly..." he whispered, "_especially _not if it was you." There was a moment where they simply stared, Alex biting her lip whilst Gene swallowed down a wave of emotion he had never before realized existed... it was full of such complexities he wasn't sure what exactly to define it as, but in that moment he considered that, if ever he had to be without Alex, his life wouldn't be worth living.

Alex ran her finger down the bridge of his nose, breath warm on his face as she whispered, "why not?"

He didn't even hesitate in his reply, looking her deep in the eye as he growled, "Because I need you 'ere... with me. An' you ain't going anywhere without my bloody say so!" Without thought or consideration, he pressed his mouth to hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that knocked the breath from her lungs. When they pulled apart, Gene grasped her face tight in his hands, eyes locked on hers.

"What about you, Bolly? Could you kill me?" His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding, and all he could feel was the gut-wrenching pain in his stomach that her words had brought about; whatever she meant, and whether she was serious or not, he was bloody terrified of losing her, and the idea of her wanting to leave made him sick inside.

Hazel eyes bore into his blue, and for a moment, she contemplated it; if this man came to her, begging for release from whatever eternal pain he had, could she provide?

If she didn't do it, could she watch him suffer for years because the law said it wasn't 'right? Could she watch him deteriorate like that, until he was barely a shell of his former self?

No, she couldn't... not in good conscience...

But then if she were to do it, could she ignore the fact her heart had come to beat every second for him? Could she live with the knowledge of taking the life of the man she'd come to trust above all others, to treasure and cherish and completely rely on? Could she exist in this strange world without him, Gene, the constant thread of support and protection that kept her together?

And the answer was no; she would rather die herself.

"No Gene," she whispered honestly, "I couldn't kill you... but I wouldn't be able to watch you live like that..."

He tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips to her cheek. "I wouldn' ask you to, Bolly," he answered sincerely, before granting her a languid, tender kiss on the mouth that was as much a melding of hearts as it was a melding of mouths. When eventually they separated, Gene rolled onto his back, pulling Alex into the crook of his arm and sighing as she gently kissed his chest, beneath which his heart pounded as he had never known, each beat a silent reverence to the woman whose hand now intertwined with his.

As the silence stretched on, and the clock on the bedside table ticked in the still-lit room, Alex spoke, her voice soft and gentle, a balm to the worry and fear that had stayed clenched in his stomach throughout their conversation. "As long as I'm with you Gene, I'll never have to ask..." her mouth traced his collarbone as she whispered. "I'm safe with you..."

Gene tightened his hold on her and nodded. "Yeah, Bols," he murmured, "me too."

----

She didn't know what brought it on; initially she had just thought it speculation, curbing her interest to see just how deep the hidden man before her really was... And then she found herself considering it, thinking about ways to get back to Molly, to see her precious daughter; if she died in this strange, paradoxical universe, then surely she would find herself home, with Molly, and Evan, and a chocolate birthday cake that was just waiting to have the candles blown out... But she wasn't dying, was she? She was in the prime of health in 1982, whatever her 2008 self was suffering through, and she didn't have it in her to turn a weapon on herself... So maybe Rosa had it right, she thought, in asking Benji to help her escape her eternal prison... Was it so wrong for her to want a better life, an escape from pain and misery with nothing to look forward to but that final day of judgement where she might find peace at last?

But she had seen Benji's face; she'd seen his torment, his horror, his distress at not being able to follow through with Rosa's requests, and the idea of putting anyone in that position was enough to cause bile to rise at the back of her throat... And who would she ask? The only man she knew well enough to request anything from was the one person that kept her tied to this existence, kept her here, permanently grounded and with support she could never have dreamed of... Gene Hunt's presence in her 1982 world was enough to make her question whatever beliefs she had entered into on her arrival; if Gene Hunt was really a figment, then why did he evoke feelings in her that she hadn't known since Peter? And if he really was just an imaginary construct, then how was it that he had such a complex persona, a past of pain and hurt; why would she imagine that, in a man she found herself falling for a little more each day? Was it that past that endeared him to her? And if so, was her subconscious simply looking for ways to ensnare her in this fantasy world?

Lying there, watching his peacefully sleeping face in the still-lit room, she realized it didn't matter; because even if she never knew whether he was just an imagined fabrication from the dark recesses of her mind, or if the beating heart she could swear she felt pounding was really there, to her he would always be reality, he would always hold in his hand the heart she had once sworn never to give away again... and whether she woke up from 1982 and returned to 2008 or not, there would never be another man that compared to Gene Hunt, real or otherwise... And if he was really a fabrication, she could quite easily live this dream-life out to the end, just as long as he remained by her side all the way.

Speaking to the quiet of the night, eyes fixed on Gene's sleeping face, she whispered, "I won't go anywhere without you, Gene." And with a soft, lingering kiss to his temple, she laid down to sleep, head resting on his chest, the reassuring thump of Gene Hunts heartbeat echoing through her mind like a soothing rhythm... and as she listened, her eyes closed and breathing shallow, she realized that she had never felt more alive.

----

**Yeah, yeah, I know, there's no smut... but it's soon, I promise :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	15. Learn You Inside Out

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**This chapters named after a song by Lifehouse; it will make sense when you get, say, halfway down the chapter. **

**Enjoy :)**

_--- _

It hadn't been since the earliest days of his marriage that Gene last awoke to the sensation of lips trailing over his neck. As consciousness dawned on him, he prayed that Alex would never stop, allowing his fingers to slip beneath the fabric of her shirt whilst her lips teased down across the sensitive skin at the base of his throat, causing him to inhale sharply and press his fingers hard to the base of her spine.

"S'good..." he murmured after a few moments, fingers glancing across the thin layer of fabric that covered her arse as she slid her mouth to his sternum, her lips caressing and teasing down his chest as he sighed, "'s'nice..."

Alex smiled into his skin, hands sliding up over his torso, slipping up to his shoulders and massaging lightly as she moved back up to his mouth, sliding her leg across him to settle herself comfortably, straddled across his stomach with her head bent over his, lips hovering above his wetted mouth until he closed the distance between them, pulling her gently closer as he softly teased her mouth open with his...

His tongue slipped familiarly between her lips as his other hand slid up beneath her shirt, rolling her to the side as his hand sought out the bare flesh of her breast, cupping it within his hand, flicking confident thumbs over the hardening nipple, eyes closed as he savoured the gentle murmur of appreciation that slid between her lips.

"Morning..." she whispered, before tangling her tongue with his once more. He groaned in acknowledgement as he rolled her onto her back, hand sliding over the soft skin of her thighs, caressing her with an assured touch that sent her into shivers and shakes. With a gentle touch, Alex raised her hand to his face, stroking his cheek briefly before sliding her fingers into his hair, tangling and tugging gently as his mouth covered hers completely, the scent of him consuming her, enveloping her in a warm haze of bliss whilst his practised fingers moved closer towards her rapidly melting centre, thighs quivering in anticipation while his fingertips began to trace the crease at the top of her legs... When eventually he brushed against the fabric of her knickers she released a soft moan, pulling her mouth from his just long enough to mutter, "time?"

Gene's mouth crashed to hers again, though his eyes remained open as he glanced across at the clock on the bedside table, tongue flicking against her lips briefly before he groaned, "seven," pulling their mouths apart as he looked down at her. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were glistening with desire, and the idea of spending the next hour and then some doing filthy things to her body from the safe confines of the bed was more than enticing...

"Plenty of time then," Alex whispered, pulling his mouth down to hers once more, hands sliding down over his back and slipping beneath the soft cotton of his boxer shorts to gently massage soft skin. Gene grunted in reply, pushing his hips down against her thigh as he deepened their kiss, his erection firmly pressed into her as he hooked his fingers around the elastic band of her knickers, slipping them down her legs as he broke contact with Alex's mouth, kissing the V of her neck as his fingers worked at the buttons, pushing the offending fabric aside whilst his lips passed softly and tenderly over her skin, brushing between the valley of her breasts and down the flat plain of her stomach. His hands slid the lace knickers from her ankles, dropping them over the side of the bed as he settled himself between her thighs, blowing lightly on Alex's heated folds and inhaling the warm musk of her desire. She slid her hands into his hair, caressing his scalp lightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, tongue flicking out sensuously to trail across the smooth skin, moving closer to his goal with a mixture of excitement and trepidation fluttering in his chest. As he swiped his tongue across her folds for the first time they both shivered in simultaneous elation, noises of contentment combining in the air to fall on their ears in a blanket of mutual need.

Gene stilled, looking up to meet Alex's impassioned gaze, seeking out the orbs of brilliant hazel that glistened with completely unashamed lust. She was flush with heat, mouth slightly slack and gaze intense as she nodded her approval, a silent plea for his continued attention, which he gave willingly, eyes flicking repeatedly back to her face even as he leant forwards to slide his tongue across her clit, seeing her head throw back in delight as she responded to him, the taste of her on his lips more wonderful than he had dared to imagine, a salty elixir that he couldn't get enough of, even as he lapped at her...

Her hands, caressing the back of his head as he swirled and sucked at her, shook with desire and pleasure, her breath hitching and her whimpers falling on his ears, coming to a wondrous crescendo as he slid a finger into her tight, wet channel, sending her body into orgasm whilst his spare hand stroked down the length of her leg. His tongue was still tasting and savouring until she stilled beneath him, his name a mantra on her lips as he pulled back, kissing his way upwards with a growl, lips burning a hot trail back to her mouth before melding their mouths in a passionate embrace.

As she kissed him, tasting the salty evidence of her own pleasure on his mouth and nibbling and sucking at his lips until her head was spinning, she pushed him slightly aside, rolling them so that they both lay on their sides, her hand reaching between them to push aside the waistband of his boxers, gingerly running her fingers up and down his length, feeling him shudder against her, one hand grasping her waist whilst the other slid the unbuttoned blouse away from her shoulder with a gentle hand, touch surprisingly soft against her skin.

Alex grasped him slightly harder, hand fluttering repeatedly over his hard length, stifling a moan as she traced him, taking mental notes of what made him gasp and groan... Her thumb brushed across his tip and he instantly responded by grasping her waist tighter, pulling her closer to him and biting lightly on her lower lip, a growl resonating from deep in his chest as her cool hand moved sensuously over him...

"Bolly..." he groaned against her mouth, pulling away briefly to look into her eyes with blatant lust and desire. "Want you..." he murmured, mouth falling to her neck, "always wanted you..." He touched her wrist lightly, tugging gently until she released him, her hands immediately going to the waist band of his boxers, pushing them down his body as far as she could before he had to lift his hips into the air and kick them off his body, rolling back to lay beside her and stopping.

He stared for several moments, eyes taking in, for the first time, the complete nakedness of her, the beauty of her toned and supple body displayed before him, full breasts ready and waiting for his attention... As his gaze trailed over her, he smiled, noticing the tan line across her chest as a result of her off-the shoulder tops, a scar on her right shoulder that he hadn't before realized existed, but that he now leant forward to trace with his fingers, before replacing fingertips with lips and pulling away, lifting his gaze to meet hers, only to find that she, too, was observing the undiscovered plains of his body... He shifted slightly, withdrawing his touch from her arm and settling for resting his head on his hand, propped up on one elbow as he watched her breasts rise and fall with every breath she took.

Looking at him, she was struck with an innate appreciation and admiration, not just for his physical form, but for the emotional turmoil of his past that every inch of his body gave testament to. His left arm was marred by a large white scar that stretched across three inches of his bicep, and it struck her as strange how she could possibly have neglected to notice it beforehand... in a mimic of Gene's actions she leant forward, lips and tongue tracing over the sensitive stretch of skin, feeling him tense slightly before she pulled away again, eyes trailing down over his body as she searched for more testimony to the life Gene hid from the world... and she found it.

She found it in the form of an angry white circle that stood out against his leg, halfway down his thigh; she found it, and she instantly moved down to press her lips to it.

She found it in the shape of the small scar that lay over his pelvic bone, raised from the rest of the skin in a harsh red line; she found it, and straight away she traced both finger and tongue over it in a sensual gesture of acceptance and intimacy.

The backs of his hands were home to a variety of burns and scratches from long-forgotten pains and discomforts; each was traced, caressed and kissed with tenderness, and as she raised herself back to his level, they stared into one another's eyes with warmth, the former lustful passions forgotten as they moved towards one another, lips soft and welcoming as they met in an embrace of gentle tenderness, a mutual acceptance struck up without words, her body resting perfectly in conjunction with his, hips aligning next to one another so that if their kiss were to end she would be able to rest her forehead contentedly in his neck.

As it was, his arms wrapped around her waist, just as hers slid around his shoulders, the two of them rolling slowly so that Alex was pressed into the mattress, Gene's weight a welcome warmth above her, body covering hers so perfectly she released a soft moan of contentment. His fingers reached between them, teasing at her soaking crux before gently easing her legs apart, settling himself in the gap as his hands tenderly trailed over her waist, one reaching to cradle her breast, touch soft and delicate, as though afraid she might break beneath his hands. The pad of his thumb brushed across the hard nub of her nipple, teasing lightly as he gently ended their kiss, mouth lightly grazing across her jaw and down her neck. His arousal pressed against her thigh, an ironic contradiction of the tenderness of their embrace as it's hard length sent delightful shivers through Alex's whole body whilst she shifted slightly beneath him.

"Alex..." Gene whispered, releasing her breast to cup her face, meeting her eyes with a deep sincerity and warmth. The use of her first name brought a lump to her throat, and as she looked at him she saw layer upon layer of hope and longing in his eyes. She brought a quivering hand to his cheek, holding his gaze for a long moment before she nodded, pressing her lips lightly against his.

"Gene..." She whispered in reply. For a moment they simply stared, both waiting and watching, savouring the intimacy of the moment before, eventually, she whispered, "I... we need this..." and there were no more questions to be asked.

In that second every doubt and reservation was pushed aside, and as their bodies finally conjoined, the last remnants of whatever mental barriers had held them back for weeks crumbled under the force of emotion that passed between them.

As he slid into her, Gene could only stare, taking in the pleasured expression on her face as her mouth formed a soft 'o', her eyes closed as she pressed her hips upwards towards his own... And in her face he found solace and comfort such as he had never known, the soft lips that framed her mouth uttering his name and granting him a rush of warmth that spread throughout his body, warming fingers and toes as he brought his mouth to the soft skin of her neck once again, movements tender and unhurried as his hips moved slowly against hers.

"S'good... s'beautiful..." he murmured, kissing his way slowly towards her mouth before capturing her lips with his. Alex kissed back softly, hooking her ankles around the backs of his legs in silent encouragement as he continued to move rhythmically within her, the only sounds in the room the softness of their combined breaths and the gentle sighs of union. Gene's mind was consumed with the feel of her around him, the welcoming warmth between her legs enveloping his whole being as he treasured her slick heat and the gentle slide of her tongue against his...

She was everything he'd ever dared to imagine and more; in his morning fantasies, cooped up in her bathroom, he'd imagined a warm, willing body beneath his, responsive and enthusiastic and full of the youthful spirit that Alex seemed to carry with her in spades... Lying here now, moving within her in tender motions that threatened to splinter the iron cast around his heart, he was amazed to find all of that, plus something of such wonderful magnitude he could barely describe it, nor thought it decent to try...

Because she was different.

He had never been one for gentle 'love-making'- in his whole life, he'd really only engaged in this tender embrace twice before; once, when he was with a quivering virgin who barely knew how to kiss, and again, on his wedding night, and then only out of compulsion, feeling that it was wrong to begin an official life together with a quick shag against the wall... somehow, this beat everything he'd ever known.

It wasn't that he hadn't cared for his wife, because he had- but there was no real spark between them other than a mutual lust, and by the time that wore down they'd tied themselves to what they had assumed to be a life-long contract, and it was too late to back out... They had grown to a mutual acceptance, a necessary agreement that this was the life they were going to lead, and they would have to live with it, and so they did; they'd accepted the roles of husband and wife and for years they had lived by them...

But there had never been this intimacy, this intricate entanglement of bodies and minds that set his heart aflutter and made his head light with dizziness. Because with Alex, his mind and heart now questioned everything he knew; if he and his wife had managed nearly twenty years in a relationship based on nothing but a lustful youth, then just how long could this go on? This, where his heart ached to know her, to really understand whatever complex depths lay beneath the walls she threw up around her? Surely, when his heart craved to know everything from her favourite colour to the name of her favourite artist, this could last for even longer than that?

The thought set his stomach ablaze as he deepened their kiss, hands gripping her waist slightly tighter as he increased the speed of his thrusts, still maintaining the gentle strokes even as his body responded to the increase of speed, his arousal and desire increasing as the tender caress of her mouth acted as a constant epiphany whilst their bodies melded together; he needed her.

It wasn't the lustful need he'd experienced in the past; it was raw, it was beautiful... and it was bloody terrifying.

Even as he felt himself reaching his peak, fingers flicking and caressing at the sensitive nub between Alex's legs to help her along, he was terrified and stunned at the concept of being so dependent on her presence... But as she quaked beneath him, breaking their warm and passionate kiss to throw her head back in pleasure and gasp out his name as she writhed and moaned, he didn't care; the idea of being utterly devoted and tied to this woman, who gave herself so willingly and completely to him, was one that he was more than happy to entertain.

And as their union reached its ultimate pinnacle, her hands slipping into his hair and eyes fixing firmly on his, neither of them questioned or regretted their final leap into the unknown plains of romance, the age old act of intimacy simply expressing physically what neither could bring themselves to say in words; they weren't going anywhere.

---

Rolling to the side and withdrawing from her a little while later, Gene gathered Alex into his chest, pressing his mouth to her forehead and breathing shakily as his body calmed down, heart returning to normal whilst his fingers traced her spine. She was shaking under his touch, skin sensitized to every brush of his skin on hers as she recovered from the delight of orgasm. Nuzzling his nose against her neck, Gene spoke softly to her, his gruff voice surprisingly gentle in the haze of post-coital bliss.

"We're gunna be late for work, Bolly," he murmured half-heartedly, before laying his head down and closing his eyes, passing easily into a light doze. Alex smiled, settling against him and feeling herself drifting off.

"Don't care..." she whispered, hand tracing lazy patterns in his skin before she too slipped into sleep.

----

It was quarter to ten when they finally got to work, and as they entered CID they were met by a tired looking Viv, who sent a pointed and knowing look their way as he left, waving a lazy hand in goodbye before he headed home.

"Bloody ponce," Gene muttered, pushing open the double doors and stalking towards his office, barking orders as he went. Alex followed meekly, quietly sitting herself down and attempting to look busy by rifling through paperwork, when in actual fact her mind was wandering to the memory of Gene's hands and mouth all over her body, the sensation of him within her as she crashed into oblivion...

"Good night was it, Ma'am?" Ray asked, suggestively waggling his eyebrows and glancing towards Gene's closed door, snapping Alex from her hazy reverie as she turned to look at him.

She smiled, hiding the feeling of embarrassment at having been caught so early on and shrugging, "oh it was amazing," she said, flashing white teeth at him in a smile and flicking back her hair as she spoke. "In fact, it was so good, I can barely walk..." at this, she held out the cup on her desk and smiled sweetly, "would you mind terribly getting me a coffee? Milky, three sugars – I feel like I'm going to need the energy!" With a wink, she pressed the cup into Ray's hands and sashayed into Gene's office, ignoring the snorts of amusement coming from Chris and Shaz as Ray walked begrudgingly to the canteen.

---

For a moment after she entered, the two of them simply stared, Gene's mouth set in his traditional moody pout whilst Alex stood with her hand on her hip. It was several moments before either of them did anything, content to simply watch one another, and when Gene finally moved it was as though he'd had an electric shock to the rear, leaping from his chair and shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes not leaving hers as he cleared his throat before speaking. "I wanna find out more about Jeremy McKellen," he said, raising one hand to scratch at the slight scattering of stubble across his chin that he hadn't had the chance to get rid of in their hurry to reach the station.

Alex blinked, slightly hurt by the brash change to working relationship as she stumbled over the single word of "why?"

"Because I didn't like him when 'e was alive, an' I like 'im even less now he's been killed. Something didn't smell right about 'im Bols, and I wanna know what." He walked around his desk and perched on the wood, hands resting lightly on the surface as he went on. "I wanna know where 'e drank, I wanna know who 'e drank with, and I want to know _exactly_ what he thought about 'is daughter, because right now it looks to me like 'e could be the missing link in this whole 'Angel' bollucks!"

Alex nodded, "I'll get onto it, Guv," she said, turning to leave.

"Bols," Gene growled. She turned back to him with one eyebrow raised in inquisition. Gene looked at her for several moments, then said, almost scared, "about earlier... we're... we're alright... ain't we?"

Alex glanced towards the windows to his office; they were shuttered, blocking the rest of the team from view. Without hesitating she walked forwards and tugged gently at the bottom of his tie, meeting his eyes as she whispered, "we're more than alright, I hope."

He nodded, eyes falling to the hand which now caressed the silk of his tie, as though fascinated by it. With a dip of his head he caught her mouth, hand cupping the back of her head as he kissed her with passionate hunger. When they pulled apart, Alex's lips were swollen and her heart racing, whilst Gene's eyes were black and full of desire, narrowed slightly as he took her in. "Get back to work, fizzy knickers," he murmured, "I don't fancy gettin' busted when one of them oafs bursts in." He pushed her gently away and stood up straight, dusting his trousers off as Alex nodded, leaving the office with a twang of disappointment in her stomach as she settled down to work.

---

Two hours later, having had Ray and Chris interrogate Amanda for information, Alex re-entered Gene's office with a list of information, which she slapped down in front of him, smirking smugly when his eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. "You don't give Ray and Chris enough credit, Gene," Alex said softly. "Pubs, drinking-buddies and relatives of Jeremy McKellen; now what do you plan to do with it?"

Gene picked up the sheet of paper and scanned it briefly before his eyes narrowed. "Well, well, well... Joe Ellison..." he looked at her pointedly. "Still maintain that he's an innocent little cabbage, Bollykecks? 'cause I ain't too keen on 'is chances when he keeps poppin' up like a bloody jack-in-the-box!"

Alex sighed. "I still don't think he killed anyone, no. He might well have connections with people who have more information, but he is not a killer!"

Gene met her eyes briefly, mouth set in a tight line. "You seem pretty damn certain."

"I'd bet on it, Gene; Joe Ellison is not a murderer."

There was a note of finality in her voice, and Gene didn't bother to argue, knowing full well they would get nowhere if he did. "Fine." He said eventually. "Where's this..." he glanced at the paper and frowned, "where's this Black Bull?"

Alex blinked, evidently stunned by his lack of argument. "I... what?"

Gene rolled the piece of paper up and tapped it on the top of her head lightly in a patronising manner as he grinned, "undercover, Bollinger Knickers; I suddenly have the urge for a drink!"

----

"McKellen drank in the evenings between seven and ten;- there is no point in us marching in at lunch time with no proof that anyone worthwhile will be there; if we stick to his rota then we find people who knew him, not random punters who may or may not have heard his name!" Alex's voice was agitated and annoyed as they sat in the Quattro outside The Black Bull; it was a dark, dingy looking pub from the outside, but the crowd of working men filing in seemed happy enough as they opened the heavy door and entered. Gene, meanwhile, was tapping at the wheel in frustration.

"Look, posh-knickers; the day I need advice on time-tabling and psychtwattery, I'll come to you, but right now, _I'm_ the superior officer and we are going for a bloody drink, and I don't give a bleeding sperm-donors testicle if you disagree or not!" He glared at her, daring her to contradict him and trying to ignore the angry glint in her eye that told him to lean over and shove his tongue down her posh little throat... Instead, she undid her seat belt, hand on the door as she smiled sweetly over at him.

"Fine," she said, voice dripping with false sweetness as she ran her eyes over his body, "but you won't get into a working men's pub wearing a suit and tie." With a glittering smile, she stepped out of the car, bending down with her arm across the door as she said, "shall I meet you in there when you've found something more suitable?"

With a smug grin, she slammed the door, sashaying her way over to the pub entrance as Gene wound down his window and shouted out at her, "DON'T SLAM MY BLOODY DOOR YOU DAFT TART!"

---

Ten minutes later, Gene entered the pub looking distinctly more casual, despite only having discarded blazer and tie, undoing a few buttons and casually un-tucking his shirt. On entry, despite what he might tell Alex later, he was glad for her warning; even in a scruffy shirt and trousers he stood out like a sore thumb; the workers had trawled in on their lunch hour, sporting torn jeans, muddy t-shirts, and scuffed boots, completely opposing the leather of his shoes and the freshly laundered clothes he wore. Gene's eyes scanned the room quickly as he walked in, finding Alex sat at the bar alongside a young, handsome, if somewhat messy looking man with brown hair and eyes. Alex was already leant over a glass of wine, smiling winningly and leaning her head casually on one hand, whilst her companion looked her over in a way that said, quite plainly, that Christmas had come early.

Gene didn't even hesitate as he stalked over, sliding his arm around her waist and glaring pointedly at the other man before lowering his mouth to her ear, growling softly, "you're undercover, Bolly... does that involve shackin' up with some scummy tosser?" His fingers tightened on her waist as he spoke, and he didn't even attempt to hide the wave of bitter jealousy as the idea formulated in his brain. Lifting his head, he saw Alex's drinking partner looking from him to her before gulping and vacating the bar stool on which he sat, slipping away to another corner of the pub as Gene cast a quick glance around.

The second he was out of earshot, Alex looked round, a fierce anger in her eyes as she hissed at him, "What the hell are you doing? I was speaking to a potential source of information and you come in throwing your bloody weight around and scare him off!"

Gene glared down at her, clenching his jaw as a punter passed by, then snapping back in a low voice at the first opportunity. "I just saved you from getting felt up by yet another wanker! So why don't you unpick the knickers from your arse and start acting a little more grateful!" His eyes flashed, and Alex continued to glare daggers in his direction, face angry and lips set as she pulled away from Gene's hold, pressing a finger sharply into his chest.

"I can handle myself perfectly well thank you Gene! And I am _not_ going to settle for your petty, teenage delusions of masculinity simply because you got into my knickers! So you stop right now, Hunt, and you let me do my bloody job!" With a final shove, she pushed him away, sliding easily from her barstool and sidling over to her former companions' side, smiling apologetically as she lifted the glass of wine to her lips. Gene watched as the younger man's smile returned and he rubbed Alex's arm gently. Turning around, he leaned heavily on the bar and ordered a whiskey from the timid looking barman, not for a second taking his eyes from Alex as she leant forwards to speak.

----

"Sorry about that," Alex said, circling the rim of her glass with her fingernail, "he's my part-time stalker." Holding out a hand, she smiled, "I didn't introduce myself before; I'm Alex."

The man smirked, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it lightly, "Barry," he said, smiling warmly. He nodded towards Gene, "Only part-time? Surely a woman like you merits full-time stalking?" He lifted his pint to his lips with dancing eyes and Alex laughed, sipping her own drink slightly before she replied.

"I'm second to the day-job; thankfully he only decides to chase me on his lunch break and evenings."

Barry grinned, looking over to Gene again with a smirk on his lips as he spoke, "you should get the police onto him... nice girl like you? They'll be falling over themselves to help." He winked, taking a large gulp of his drink as he did so. Alex, meanwhile, had to hide a smile behind her hand; if only he knew.

"Oh I don't think he's serious," Alex smiled, "he'll give up when he realizes I'm not interested."

Barry nodded, looking at her carefully as he deliberated what to say next. When eventually his voice returned, it was almost suspicious. "So how come I haven't seen you in 'ere before? We're pretty tight knit in this place; don't really get newbies... you been going someplace else for years?"

"Oh, I've just moved down from Manchester..." Alex said, quickly griping in her mind and selecting the first place she could think of, "wanted a change of scenery."

"No accent though?" Barry asked. "You talk pretty proper for a Manc bird."

Alex smiled, "my parents went to Oxbridge; if I were to speak like a 'Manc bird' as you put it, they'd have my head on a silver platter..." only afterwards did she note the slight set of Barry's mouth at the mention of her parents good education, and decided to change tact. "Besides," she said, "I grew up here... I went up to Manchester for about twelve years on work and ended up getting bored... So I came home." She smiled, placing her hand lightly over Barry's as she went on. "Do you think I'd be welcome here for a while, until I settle in again, that is? Only I don't really feel like I know this city anymore..."

Barry grinned, leaning forwards as he twisted his hand to run his thumb tenderly over her wrist, "come back at eight and I'll introduce you to some of the lads... you'll fit right in." Without hesitating he leant forward and kissed her cheek, grinning at her flustered expression before downing his pint. "Right, back to work for me," he flashed a lazy smile and left, with Gene's eyes following him until he had disappeared out of the heavy oak door.

----

Alex looked at him meaningfully on her way out, and Gene followed almost immediately, pausing only to throw the last dregs of whiskey down his throat. When he walked outside, she was leaning on the Quattro part way down the street, looking across at him impatiently. Once he was a few metres away from her she nodded towards the next turning, pushing off the car and swaying her hips as she walked across ahead of him. Gene followed, teeth gritted and hands deep in his pockets as he prepared himself for an onslaught of anger and feministic bollucks about being able to fight her own corner... Instead, the second he joined her she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down for a fierce kiss, Gene's face the picture of surprise, eyes wide with shock as she forcefully pushed her tongue into his mouth. After a moment of standing stock still and surprised, his hands were on her waist, eyes closing as he backed her up against the brick wall and tangled their tongues together, breath catching as she responded with a soft moan. A few minutes of heated kissing later, during which his hand slipped up over her blouse to cup her breast, he pulled away, eyes dark.

"Not angry with me anymore then?" He growled, giving her breast a slight squeeze and feeling her shiver in reply.

"No..." she said softly, "not angry... but you were overly jealous..."

Gene pressed harder against her, nipping her ear before answering, "Wasn't jealous..." he growled, "just ain't gonna let some poofter wander up to you and start buying you drinks left right and centre." He cupped her face, breath hot on her face as he growled, "I know what's going through his mind when he looks at you and I don't like it; so if I want to rip his neck off his shoulders, I will!"

Alex sighed, pushing him lightly off her. "He can _think_ whatever he likes, Gene... but you have to trust me not to let him act on it... I can look after myself; I'm not a DI for nothing."

Gene ground his teeth, clearly thinking otherwise, but resisted retorting, instead changing tact as he lit a cigarette, staring at her. "D'you learn anything?"

She hesitated, and then nodded. "I've been welcomed back at eight o'clock, and I'm getting introduced to everyone..." she smirked slightly as she added, "and he thinks you're my stalker."

Gene glowered at her, lowering his cigarette as his eyes asked silent questions. Alex grinned. "Well, after I had to get angry at you, it was the first plausible explanation for you being there that didn't involve you being my boss..."

"So you told him I'm a stalker?" Gene asked in disbelief.

Alex laughed, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and smiling up at him. "Would you rather I told him you're a police officer and looking to get in with all of Jeremy McKellen's drinking buddies?"

"Yes," Gene answered immediately, though his mouth turned up in a slight grin. "Come on then," he said, dropping his cigarette end and stamping it out with his heel, "better go and do some real work."

---

**Hope that was enjoyable!**

**Big thank you to Feline333 and DI-Bolly-Kegs over on TRA for beta-ing this chapter for me :)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	16. The Office Desk & a Little Black Dress

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

It was all he could do to let her work that afternoon without dragging her back across the street to have his way with her several times over.

The morning's events were fresh in his mind, and, though he didn't take what they had shared for granted, the fact remained that he had a year's worth of pent up desire waiting to be released, and rather than acting as an antidote to that lust, their morning union had only alerted him to the fact there were a million and one things he could do to her glorious body, and he wouldn't be happy until he had experienced them all at least twice.

Watching her work - writing up reports, phoning God-knows-who and sucking on her pen in concentration – was enough to drive him wild, and the only coherent thought he managed all afternoon was that there was a whole multitude of places within this station where he could at least begin to explore the torrent of filthy thoughts currently whirring through his mind.

Despite the distraction of her long legs and arse as she wandered around the office, he managed to do a reasonable amount of work, interviewed three suspects for a robbery and kicked one of them in the stomach numerous times to vent his frustration. By half five he was agitated and on edge, and he ended up ordering Alex into the small canteen to escape prying eyes and pressing her firmly up against the kitchen unit as he fiercely devoured her mouth with his. Alex melted against him, hands on his shoulders as he pressed his hips hard against hers, a low growl in his throat as her hands pressed weakly back at him.

"We're at work..." Alex whimpered, pulling her mouth away and meeting his eyes, trembling as she resisted the urge to let him have his wicked way with her in the staff canteen.

Gene sighed, resting his forehead on hers lightly before murmuring, "if you didn't dress all tarty I wouldn't feel the need to shag you against the wall."

Alex smiled, fiddling gently with his tie as she looked up at him innocently, "shall I go and change into something more... _frumpy_? That blouse we found last night looked positively grotesque..."

She trailed off as he narrowed his eyes, his hand moving to cup the back of her head forcefully as he growled softly at her, "you come in wearing frumpy bollucks and I'll march you right back 'ome for a good spank!" He moved to nibble at her neck briefly, before securing his mouth over the pulse point, sucking and biting as Alex gripped the lapels of his jacket, eyes closed.

It wasn't lost on her that he'd referred to 'home' so casually; nor did it even bother her- the reality of it was that she liked the idea of 'her flat' becoming 'their flat', and it didn't even feel uncomfortable, just a natural progression. And even though the idea of officially living with Gene Hunt was enough to make her weak at the knees and a nervous wreck, she was pleased, and excited, at the prospect of having him constantly available for the expression of whichever lustful thoughts raced through her mind at any given opportunity... "Promises... promises..." she murmured, shivering in his hold at the memory of him buried within her body, the feel of his hands covering her breasts as he kissed her....

"You cold, Bols?" He murmured, frowning as he stroked her hair, his voice softening considerably, as he went on, "Yer shakin' like a virgin in a brothel."

Alex rolled her eyes, her grip on his arm tightening as she tried to stop herself quivering. "I'm fine," she said, patting his shoulder lightly, "just fine... what was it you wanted?"

He looked at her curiously for several moments, eyebrows knitting together slightly before his hands slid suggestively over the curve of her arse and the tops of her thighs, lifting his eyebrow inquisitively as she met his gaze.

"I am not shagging you here!" she told him with conviction, watching as Gene's face fell, the suggestive glint in his eyes washing away as he reluctantly returned his hands to a more respectable position on her waist.

He pouted slightly, eyes soft and pleading, but Alex raised her own eyebrow in reply, crossing her arms across her chest and tapping her foot impatiently as though daring him to contradict her, until Gene sighed in relent. "Fine... shouldn' expect any different from a posh bird anyway..." his hand slid around her back, a grin forming on his lips as she scowled up at him.

"It's nothing to do with being 'posh'!" Alex argued, "But just because we did it once does _not_ mean we will suddenly take to having rampant sex over every surface in the station!"

Gene looked thoughtful, his pout prominent before he nodded, "yeah, you're right Bols; kitchen units ain't hygienic..." with a glint in his eyes, he leant forward, continuing to growl in her ear; "get your peachy arse into my office... now!"

----

Twenty minutes later, despite her reservations and having waited in agitation for the rest of CID to empty, Alex found herself pressed up against Gene's filing cabinet, a metal handle digging uncomfortably into her spine as he lifted her top from her body, dropping it to the floor at his side and searching out the fly of her jeans, silently cursing her choice in clothing as he shoved the offending garment down her hips, teeth and mouth clashing with hers as his fingers tore at the ivory coloured lace that covered his goal, ripping them away with a lustful groan.

"They were my favourite pair!" Alex gasped, looking at him reproachfully. Gene rolled his eyes, pulling her mouth to his again.

"Mine too, Bols," he grunted, pushing the scrap of lace into his back pocket, "I'll stick 'em under me pillow..." he kissed her again, one hand on the back of her head as his fingers sought out the soft heat that pulsed between her legs, teasing at her entrance lightly before plunging two fingers into her, thumb teasing roughly against her clit whilst Alex's hands tore at the bottom of his shirt, yanking it impatiently from the confines of his trousers before reaching for his belt buckle, her fingers trembling with lustful need as Gene continued to thrust expert fingers into her tight channel. His teeth nibbled and teased at her lips, replaced occasionally by the soft flick of his tongue or a gentle suck that sent her into shakes.

"Gene... jeans.... get the jeans off..." her breath was short, catching in her throat as she pushed his trousers lower on his hips.

"Better idea," Gene grunted, pulling her roughly against him and half-dragging her around his desk, bending her over, face-down, and pressing heavy, heated kisses to her spine and shoulders. "Wanted to do this for bloody ages..." his fingers returned to her centre, plunging into her deep and fast whilst his other hand pushed his boxers down, grasping Alex's hand and guiding her to his length, emitting a small hiss when her warm fist enclosed him, working his length in time with his own strokes. His breath washed over her skin, gasping lungs searching for air as her touch ensnared him, blocking out the rest of the world, vision darkening so that all he could see was the ivory of her bra and the soft creamy flesh of her back and arse... With a lustful groan, he pushed her trousers around her knees, kicking her legs apart in a swift movement and entering her quickly from behind, mouth on the back of her neck as his hands encircled her body, coming to rest on top of the sheer lace of her bra and massaging gently as he thrust into her.

Alex moaned beneath him, hands scrambling for a grip on the desk surface, breathing erratic as Gene's hands caressed her nipples into peaks, his hard length sliding into her body repeatedly, the entirety of her body sensitized to the touch of his hands and the brush of his mouth, senses spiralling wildly out of control as he growled out his pleasure behind her, one hand sliding sensually over the smooth skin of her stomach, tapering towards her throbbing heat until his skilled fingers found her clit, squeezing and caressing until she was wrought with pleasure, whole body quaking beneath him...

"Gunna come..." Gene grunted, thrusting harder, his grip on her breast tightening as his orgasm threatened, pulled from him as Alex's walls clenched down on him, tightening as she moaned wantonly, Gene's name on her lips as she shook... With a final thrust, Gene buried himself within her, releasing his pleasure into her willing body as he leant forwards, body covering hers whilst they both tried desperately to regain composure...

The pressure of him on her back, the feel of his limp organ resting within her as the last shudders of orgasm died down, and the sensation of his fingers slipping beneath her lace bra and toying idly with her nipple, sent shivers of contentment through her sated body, her body still throbbing with pleasure.

With a gentle push, she stood up, Gene slipping from within her but keeping his arms firmly around her waist, one hand still caressing her breast. Alex sighed, bringing her own hand up to cover his, guiding him in a lazy massage as her head lolled back on his shoulder, Gene's lips teasing her ear lobe lightly until she turned in his arms, holding onto his hand as she pulled him down for a tender kiss. Her head grew light as his confident tongue plied her mouth and his hands moved down to her bare arse, caressing and kneading lightly as Alex's arms slid warmly around him, welcoming his tender embrace...

Eventually, when their heartbeats had returned to normal, Gene pulled gently away, eyes dark as he murmured, "c'mon... get dressed an' let's go."

Alex frowned, still slightly dazed as she pulled back and eyed him carefully. "What's the rush?"

Gene sighed, pulling away and adjusting his trousers, tucking his shirt in as he said, "need some food, a drink, and a good search of your wardrobe so I know that smug Barry-bastard don't get any ideas."

She was in the middle of buttoning up her jeans when she froze, meeting his eyes as she spoke, "Gene, he's going to have to get some ideas if you want to find anything out – and I am not dressing like a nun just so you feel less threatened." Her tone was blunt and cold, and Gene ground his teeth briefly as he busied himself with readjusting his tie, watching as she stalked over to the filing cabinet and lifted her top from the floor.

"You walk in their dressed like a tart and 'e won't take a word you say seriously," Gene said defensively.

"Not every man is a judgemental bigot, Gene," she hissed, pulling her top over her head quickly and visibly shaking with anger.

"Maybe not," he growled, spitting as his anger rose along with his voice, "but every bloke thinks with his cock, an' if you go in there flashin' tits an' fanny about then you may as well give his todger a one-handed salute on entry and forget about snarin' anybody!"

She snapped, shouting back defensively, waving her arm around in the air for emphasis, "Just because_ you_ can't see a woman in a skirt without imagining what's underneath it, doesn't mean –"

"I'm a bloke, Bolly!" he growled, "and the first thing going through his mind if you go in there with yer tits out will be how many drinks it'll take to get you in the back of 'is truck!"

Alex rolled her eyes, face crinkling with disgust, voice full of contempt as she replied, "do you have to be so crass all the time? An appreciation of the female form does _not _mean he's thinking up ways to get me into bed!"

Gene walked over, leaning on the filing cabinet with his arms crossed over his chest, jaw set and lips thin, staring at her for what felt like an age as he battled with the innate need to yell at her... And then, eventually, he found himself replying in a voice that was surprisingly calm and rational; "you aren't going in there dressed like a prossie, Drake." His eyes were hard, and as she rolled her eyes at him he added, "and that's an order!"

Alex looked at him in complete outrage, eyes narrowed as she jabbed him sharply in the chest. "You are not pulling rank on me, Gene!" she hissed, pushing at him again; he didn't budge.

"Call it staff protection," he growled, bringing his face within an inch of hers with blazing eyes, "I'm the superior officer here, and don't you forget it! This is me, DCI Hunt, giving you an official warning; disobey me and I will 'ave you suspended!"

The level note in his voice fuelled the burning fury at the pit of her stomach, and she met his eyes evenly, breath hot on his face as she hissed, "you wouldn't dare!"

"Guess what, Bollinger Knickers?" he answered; she was fuming, face red with anger and practically begging to be kissed as he growled, "I dare!" With a last furious glare as though to stress the point he swept past her, grabbing his overcoat from its hook on the umbrella stand as he went.

---

Ten minutes later Alex stormed into the flat, finding Gene stood in front of the television, buttoning up a fresh shirt over a stone-washed pair of jeans. For a brief moment, she admired the view of bare flesh peaking out of the V of his shirt, recalling the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips and biting back a lustful wave of desire, before collecting herself, all rage returning in a blinding flash; he might look frankly delectable with his bared skin and his denim-clad legs and his floppy hair, but he was still a bigoted, arrogant, self-centred and controlling Neanderthal with a superiority complex.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again!" Alex hissed, slamming the door behind her in anger as Gene simply continued to button up his shirt in apathy, eyes fixed on the television even as he replied, voice remaining as uncharacteristically soft and rational as it had been in the office.

"I'm the superior officer, Bols," he said, watching the television intently whilst his fingers fiddled confidently with the last button, "and just because I shagged you doesn't mean I'll let you walk all over me."

Alex scoffed, kicking the sofa in anger, much to Gene's amusement, as she began to rant, her arms flailing about in wild rage, "it's only b_ecause_ you're shagging me that you even considered that I should dress conservatively! Whatever happened to 'wear something slutty, Bols'? Did that fly out of the window along with your ability to keep it in your pants?"

Gene stopped, looking at her with a dawning irritation as she stood there fuming, her chest heaving up and down as though she had just run a marathon; she looked incredible, even if she was a gobby, insubordinate cow. "You didn't mind too much when I got into yours, Bolly," he said, voice a gentle growl now. His eyes were hot and slightly lidded, narrowing as he watched her, body betraying him as he responded to the sight of her flushed skin and heaving breasts, the fabric around his groin tightening considerably at the thought of her red-faced and gasping beneath him... Biting back a groan, he turned on his heel, heading into the kitchen and grabbing the nearly empty bottle of whiskey from the side, throwing the amber liquid down his throat straight from the bottle. He didn't have to turn around to know she'd followed him.

"I'm not a pet, Gene," she said, voice much calmer than before though still tinged with evident distaste. "I'm not going to be kept locked away like a prize pig that you don't want anyone else to see!"

With a sigh, Gene slid the bottle back onto the unit, leaving heavily against the wood, arms outstretched and back tensed, his head down as he stared intently down at a small chip in the wooden surface. After what felt like an age of grappling with his own self-control, he spoke, keeping his eyes averted from her the whole time. "I don't mind 'em seein' you, Bols," he told her, "an' I'd never call you a bloody pig either, but..." he closed his eyes, breathing quietly before he murmured, "I know what guys think, Bolly... especially young ones."

Alex stared, eyes wide, and then, in a moment of bizarre confusion, she laughed, covering her mouth and shaking her head repeatedly from side to side. "Is that what this is about? Are you worried I'm going to find myself a toy-boy or something?"

Gene turned his eyes on her, glaring at her in a way that was as vulnerable as it was angered, and in a moment, her anger dissipated. She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and lightly brushing his neck with her lips before speaking; "I'm not going anywhere, Gene," she whispered, "but you need to trust me."

His grip on the unit loosened as he looked round at her, face impassive. "It ain't you I'm worried about," he said with a growl, and then, after a slight pause, he sighed in relent, "well it is... but it's 'im I don't trust..."

With her hand running lightly across Gene's waistband Alex murmured, "just let me do this my way, ok?"

Gene released his grip on the wood, turning around to look her in the eye as he grasped her shoulders with his hands. "I wasn't joking, Bolly; I don't want you dressed up like a tart for 'im."

She pouted, trailing her fingers over the V of bare skin at his neck before wheedling at him, turning doe-eyes on his as she whispered, "what if I promise you'll be the only one ripping off whatever _filthy _ensemble I think up?"

He hesitated, meeting her eyes with his own before querying her quietly, "which clothes d'you 'ave in mind?"

Alex grinned.

----

When she stepped out of the Quattro, Gene watched her walk away with regret, a slight pang in his stomach as she sashayed towards the entrance of the Black Bull. With a glance at his watch, he smirked. They'd been caught up in a heated embrace against the front door on their way out, and, to Gene's delight, they were now ten minutes late. He had made no attempt to act sorry as they drove across town, even obeying the national speed limit to prolong her late arrival; Alex looked incredible, and if she'd arrived on time as well as looking like she walked out of a porn film the little bastard would only get the wrong idea....

So when he stopped the car at the corner and she made to get out, he made sure she couldn't miss the piercing lust in his eyes as his hand slid up the inside of her thigh, and as he leant forwards to growl lightly in her ear. "If 'e touches you, Bols, I'll kill 'im," his rough voice contrasted almost perfectly with the tender caress of his nose against her cheek as he added, "you look bloody gorgeous... promise me that when we get back I can shag you to Kingdom-Come?"

Alex twisted her head to look at him, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "I'd be disappointed if you didn't..." she leant forwards, lightly sucking his bottom lip between both of hers before she stepped out of the car, his fingertips brushing over the flesh of her leg as she went.

"Bolly," Gene said, leaning over the seat to look her up and down once more in an appraising manner, before meeting her hazel eyes with his. "Make sure 'e talks... and don't get too clever; he'll shit himself faster than an old lady with the runs."

Alex smirked. "Well, at least if least if he's covered in faeces then you won't need to be worried about me shagging him." With a wink, she shut the door, grinning at the look of warning Gene sent her way as she turned and entered the pub.

----

Barry was sat in a shirt and jeans not dissimilar to the combination that Gene had casually thrown on, though somehow she got the impression that he had spent a great deal longer selecting his outfit; the shirt was neatly pressed, unbuttoned slightly to reveal a beaded necklace resting on tanned skin, sleeves rolled carefully up his arms, resting just above his elbow. As she entered, he ran his eyes over her body whilst Alex stood under his scrutiny, wondering vaguely if Gene hadn't been right in his assessment of the younger mans intentions.

Much to Gene's horror, she had drawn out of her wardrobe five skimpy black dresses, one of which was cut so low that it nearly showed the band of her knickers, and Gene had thrown it aside without even allowing her to try it on. Another showed off nearly the whole length of her leg, barely covering her arse and revealing the tops of her creamy thighs to the world whenever she bent down; Gene had looked at her with a glimmer of lust when that particular item made an appearance, but shook his head and demanded she never go out in public in it ever again.

The other three were relatively more conservative, though the one she had finally elected to wear still left little the imagination; it wrapped around her to leave one shoulder bare, whilst the other was draped in black, hiding her cleavage from view but still showing off enough skin to be considered risqué. The skirt fell about five inches down her thigh, still short by any standards, but it had been the only dress Gene was happy to allow her out in public wearing. She'd combined it with black stilettos that extended her legs by a good four inches, a pair of red earrings and a matching red beaded necklace and bracelet. She had daubed her eyes with red eye shadow, a look she rarely opted for but that was successful in getting Gene's blood pumping, at least if the bulge in his jeans when she had re-entered the bedroom was anything to go by. Now, she stood at the bar with Barry's eyes trailing over her long legs, feeling completely out of place in her skimpy dress as several other women walked past in jeans and blouses, looking at her with complete distaste.

"If I'd thought you were gunna come all dressed up, I'd 'ave bought you flowers," Barry grinned, placing a hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the chair, ordering two glasses of wine and slipping into the stool beside her.

Alex smiled, taking her own glass and swirling it gently. "I thought I'd make the effort... that's all." She turned her head away as though embarrassed, just in time to see Gene enter the pub, his eyes meeting hers for a fraction of a second before he walked to the other side of the bar, with several women following his path with lusty eyes. With a sly wink, she turned away from his gaze and back to Barry, who had also noted Gene's arrival and was looking sulky.

"He really is a stalker, isn't he?" His voice was flat, and he took the next moment to throw a large mouthful of wine down his throat.

Alex shrugged, taking a small sip before speaking, "he's harmless, really..." she placed her hand lightly over Barry's on the bar as she added, "he just likes to get in the way of my dates."

Barry smirked, shifting his body towards her and leaning forwards slightly on the bar, eyes fixed on hers, "your dates?"

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, taking another sip of wine without allowing her eyes to leave his. "Would you prefer I called you my drinking buddy?"

He grinned, "No, date works fine for me..." with a cautious glance over at Gene, who was now being approached by a dark-haired woman in a halter-neck top, he continued. "So, as your date," he said, "how long do I have to wait until I can kiss you?" His eyes were dancing, and Alex panicked, pulling slightly back and taking a large slug of her drink before turning back to him, noting the slightly embarrassed look on his face as he scrambled for some sort of explanation, "I'm sorry, I was too forward, I just-"

"You know," Alex said, putting her chin in her hand as she looked at him, "I really don't know you well enough for you to be putting the moves on me just yet," she smiled reassuringly, "but I'd say if we're still here by closing time we might be able to come to some sort of... arrangement." With a grin, she finished her drink, watching as his shoulders sagged with visible relief.

"Right... yeah... sorry..." he managed a weak grin before following suit, finishing his glass of wine and nodding for a refill. As the barmaid obeyed, the door opened, and both of their heads turned to the door as a tall man with a goatee and a bald patch entered. Barry raised a hand in greeting, grinning as the man walked over, the shiny skin at the top of his head reflecting the lights above their heads, much to Alex's amusement.

"Who's the friend, Baz?" the man asked, in a tone that was open and friendly, even whilst his eyes trailed upwards over Alex's bare legs. "I'm almost tempted." At this, he winked surreptitiously at Barry whilst Alex frowned, glancing from one to the other in confusion.

Barry grinned. "Alex, this is Andy Summerton... Andy this is-"

"Alex," Andy smiled warmly, holding out a large hand, "I follow...nice to meet you."

Alex smiled, accepting the offered hand graciously, shaking it lightly before Andy ordered a pint and excused himself. The moment he was out of earshot, Barry leant forward to speak to Alex in a low voice, "he's gay as they come; him an' one of the other lads 'ave been having it off for years."

Blinking, Alex looked at him in surprise. "He's gay?"

Barry nodded, grinning.

"And nobody here minds?" She couldn't quite keep the surprise out of her voice; she was so used to extreme homophobia in 82 that it seemed abnormal that an average man in a working man's pub spoke so calmly and easily about a colleague's homosexuality.

With a shrug, Barry sipped at his drink. "Not many people know, but us who do don't really mind; so long as he doesn't try and poke me in the arse I don't care what he does in his own bedroom."

Alex stared, mouth agape, as she found herself for the first time building up a sense of respect for the man in front of her, "but, he doesn't get discriminated, or beaten or-"

"Why should he?" Barry asked, jaw tight as he took another drink. "Just 'cause he likes a dick up his arse doesn't mean he can't be a normal bloke."

"Oh no, I agree," Alex said, nodding along and resting her hand on his arm, "I do its just... well... men here seem less accepting of homosexual relationships whereas, where I come from, it's quite normal for a-"

"What, in Manchester?" Barry scoffed, laughing. "You telling me that the Manc's don't mind two blokes running about together?" He shook his head, grinning.

"Not Manchester," Alex said, "I... well, it's not important, but I completely agree with you; just because he's gay doesn't make him less of a man- in fact, sometimes women find it quite-"

Barry held up his hand, indicating that she should stop as he shook his head. "Look, I don't mind what they do with their dicks, but I don't want to talk about it in minute detail." He looked over to the other side of the pub and grinned, standing up. "Come on, want you to meet a couple of people." He held out his hand, picking up his glass. Alex glanced nervously over at Gene, who was currently deep in conversation with another woman, before slipping her hand into Barry's, allowing him to lead her across the room towards a corner table.

----

Gene walked in five minutes after Alex, and had to restrain himself from striding over and hitting the smug little bastard as he rested his hand on Alex's back. With a quick look at her, he sidled over to the bar, settling down with his eyes fixed firmly on Alex's elated companion, ordering a whiskey to chase down the aggressive urge to rush over and pummel the little shit into the ground.

Alex looked gorgeous and she looked comfortable, and despite the fact that every man in the pub was sneaking surreptitious glances at her long legs and perfect tits with the jealous delusion that the pretty-boy nancy next to her was going to be getting lucky, Gene felt a strange sense of pride at the fact it was _him_ she would be going home with... Even if the little bastard was grinning like the Cheshire Cat on ecstasy.

"Someone beat you to it, 'ey?" A soft, London voice sounded to his left, and he turned his head briefly to see a dark haired woman wearing a black halter-neck, low cut enough to show an ample amount of cleavage that he had to tear his eyes away from to meet her gaze.

She was pretty, he supposed, if she got rid of the small diamond stud through her nose and removed the horrific glittery pink eye-shadow that was plastered on far too thick. She smiled up at him and Gene sighed, glancing back at Alex briefly before taking a gulp of whiskey. "Not quite love," he said, "I got there first alright."

She smiled, slipping into the seat to his left and trailing her eyes over him, watching him lift his glass to his lips again. "You've got nice hands," she said eventually, whilst Gene's eyes remained fixed on Alex. "Proper mans-hands..." she toyed with the chain dangling at her neck and whispered suggestively, "d'you know how to use them?"

Gene snorted, slamming the remainder of his whiskey down the back of his throat before placing the glass down and looking at her quickly. "Yeah, I do."

She looked taken aback as he didn't expand on his reply, and then sighed, looking over to Alex and Barry again. "She an old flame?"

With a roll of his eyes Gene turned to look at her again, eyes penetrating as he spoke, "if you're looking for a shag, love, then I ain't yer bloke."

She looked disappointed, but didn't seem to be giving up easily, "I'm Jess," she said, offering a hand for him to shake. Gene took it half-heartedly, barely allowing his fingers to grasp hers before dropping it again.

"Gene," he said bluntly. Jess smiled coyly, running a hand over his arm lightly.

"See, we're getting somewhere now," she settled her hand over his, apparently not noticing when he rolled his eyes and ignored her actions. Instead, she leant forwards to whisper in his ear, her other hand dropping to his thigh, "I'm rather drunk, Gene... I'll do anything you want..."

For a moment, Gene had to stifle a groan, trying to will the blood away from his groin area... but even as Jess spoke, Alex was being led away by her companion, hand grasped in his almost casually, giving Gene the perfect excuse to pull away. He was on his feet in a second, the casual proposition swiftly forgotten as he shrugged his arm from Jess's grasp and followed Alex to the other side of the room, where she sat down with a large group of men. Gene froze in his tracks as his eyes fell on a small, red faced man with sun-blisters, who was emerging from the toilets and eyeing Alex with a wary expression on his face, even as he moved to approach her table. She and her companions hadn't yet noticed him, and within seconds Gene was dragging Joe Ellison back into the gent's toilet he had just left, a thump to the jaw enough to knock the older, withering man into unconsciousness.

---

**Many thanks to the lovely Feline333 for beta-ing so wonderfully and so quickly! Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	17. A Happy Screw Up

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

_--- _

A minute later, Gene was dragging Joe Ellison into the nearest cubicle, slamming the door shut behind him and slipping the lock into place before dumping the other mans limp weight in the corner. He begrudgingly sat himself down on the lidded toilet, pulling out his hip-flask and wondering how long he would have to wait before he got to knock ten shades of shit out of the smug little ponce who was probably, at this very moment, trying to cop a feel of Alex's arse... The idea made his blood boil, and as Ellison stirred briefly, he delivered a harsh, well-aimed kick to his gut, returning the other man to unconsciousness as he attempted to vent his anger.

---

Alex didn't see Gene dragging Joe Ellison into the toilets, but she soon realized that he had vacated the bar, and was instantly struck by an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. It wasn't that she truly believed she was in danger without him, but having the reassurance that Gene was twenty yards away, perfectly ready to snap Barry's neck in two if he put a toe over the line, made her feel safe and secure, as though she had another person there to watch her back...

Now it was gone, and the feel of Barry's hand on her waist, which had previously only presented itself as a minor annoyance, now became a huge discomfort, almost burning through the fabric of her dress as his thumb rubbed light circles against her and he politely introduced her to various friends. She found herself breathing a sigh of relief when Barry slipped away to order the next round, and busied herself talking to her new acquaintances, making small talk that felt, not only unnecessary, but tedious, too.

Among Barry's friends there was Andy - who, when sat down with his legs crossed one over the other, hands resting lightly on his knee, was prominently effeminate,- and a broad, brown-haired man named Adrian, who might have been attractive were it not for the fact his eyes and mouth seemed permanently transfixed in a lustful leer. There was an empty seat next to Andy, a worn looking jacket thrown over the seat, but even after ten minutes, when Barry had returned and set everyone's drinks onto the wooden table, nobody came forward to claim it, and nor did the rest of the tables occupants seem at all concerned.

"Anyone heard 'out more on Jezza?" Adrian asked, his voice oddly high-pitched. Even though his question was directed at the others, his eyes never left Alex's face, and she felt her stomach churn, bile rising in her throat as she wondered, yet again, where Gene had disappeared to.

Barry and Andy both shrugged, and Alex looked from one to the other inquisitively, "Jezza?"

With a smile, Barry slipped his arm back around her waist, eyes meeting hers warmly, "he's a mate of ours, only we haven't seen him in a couple of days, and he's usually here every night." He shrugged, looking over at Andy who was smiling sadly back at them. Barry's hand tightened on Alex's waist as he felt her stiffen next to him. "You ok?" he asked quietly.

"Yes..." Alex said softly, "yes... I'm fine." She smiled weakly at him then looked over to Andy, deliberately overlooking the glint in Adrian's eyes as she spoke. "Don't you know where he might be?"

"Not a clue. Hasn't answered his phone or his door; he got back from Tunisia the other night and came 'ere but haven't seen him since... not that I blame him," Andy shrugged, eyes hard and knuckles white as he gripped the pint in his hand, "he's been through the mill a bit lately though, poor sod. Probably buggered off to Mexico and shacked up with a prozzie by now..." He looked sad, and there was a twinge of sympathy in her stomach as she inwardly winced at the sad truth; none of Jeremy's friends knew. "He had it crap." Andy said bluntly.

Alex glanced questioningly at Barry, who exchanged a brief look with Andy and the others before speaking, "his wife left him... again; they've been on and off for years but he'd thought they were getting back on track... he was gutted afterwards, started shagging some random Jessie bird none of us ever met, but other than that he wouldn't say anything..." Barry shrugged again as he trailed off. "He's never said much else, to be honest, and we don't ask."

Alex felt her coppers instinct itching to take over, wanting to know exactly what Jeremy had thought and felt; had he even mentioned his daughter's existence? Did he ever tell them why he and Amanda broke up? Who was this mystery woman that he had run to after his marriage fell to pieces? Her hands began fidgeting absently on the table as she searched for an outlet for all of her questions. And then, suddenly, her hand was being covered with Barry's as he wrapped his fingers around hers, bringing her hand to his lips and throwing her a wink, as though she had just divulged a great secret that he was swearing not to tell. Alex smiled shakily, averting her eyes to Andy as she asked, "how long were they married?"

"Nearly twenty years," Andy answered, drinking deeply, eyes dull, and for a moment Barry's confession of Andy's sexuality rose in her mind- the look in his eyes was bitter, resentful, and full of hurt. Was it possible that the man Barry had referred to, in his own crass way, as 'having it off' with Andy for years, was actually Jeremy McKellen? The expression he wore was enough to suggest it, but before she had time to really analyse it, to grasp what exactly was going through Andy's mind, his face had became impassive once more, and she was forced to continue as though she hadn't noticed it at all.

"That's a long time," she said softly, feeling Barry squeeze at her hand lightly, almost suggestively, causing her to fight back a snappy retort as she aimed for ignorance, acting as though she hadn't even noticed as she went on; "Did they have any children?"

At that, Andy's jaw clenched and the grip on Alex's hand tightened, but the reply came from Adrian this time, who, for once, had shifted his gaze to look at something other than her. "A daughter," He said quietly. There was a brief pause before he met her eyes again, a steely glint in them as he asked, "And what do you mean 'did' they?"

Alex frowned; she wasn't the only one. Barry and Andy both glanced at Adrian with inquisition in their eyes, as though his question made little or no sense to them, either. He didn't back down, so Alex shrugged. "Well... they got divorced, didn't they? So... so they're not together any more... so you'd say 'did' wouldn't you? In the past tense?" Her voice quavered slightly, but for some reason she didn't think she had to be worried; the looks on Barry and Andy's faces had been enough to tell her they were unsure how to take that question, too, so the fact her voice was uncertain and shaken didn't faze her as greatly as it might have done.

Adrian's eyes were cold as he glanced from her, to Barry, to Andy, to her again, before throwing the rest of his beer down his throat in three large gulps and slinking away to the other side of the bar. Alex frowned, just as Barry moved his chair closer and dropped his spare hand to her knee. "Sorry about that," he said consolingly, squeezing her leg lightly; Alex couldn't help but pull her leg away from his touch. Barry looked sheepish, though it didn't prevent him bringing both hands up to cup her own and bring her fingers to his lips once again. She resisted rolling her eyes and looked over to Andy, whose face was drawn and tight, as though he had just been visited by a ghost.

"Am I right in thinking that things were sour with his daughter, then?" she glanced from one to the other of them, noticing the way Barry bit his lip and Andy raised his hand to his lips, chewing almost nervously on his nail. Eventually, he lowered his shaking hand, eyeing Alex in an assessing manner, before shrugging with an odd sense of apathy.

"She was ill, and he couldn't handle it... and then she died." He stood up and went to the bar, ordering two rounds of shots, which he brought back to the table and offered to either of them. In his absence, Barry attempted to engage Alex with small talk, moving to stroke a lock of hair from her face, but she was distracted and unresponsive, and the moment Andy returned her attention returned to the topic at hand, despite Barry's best attempts to divert her attention.

"Did she die of her illness?" Alex asked, voice soft, adopting the maternal tone she had long since realized helped to aid her sense of caring inquisition. She watched the pair of them shift uncomfortably, feeling Barry's hand begin to clam up with sweat and wishing more than anything that he would simply let her go long enough to pull out of his reach. Unfortunately, he seemed intent on doing the complete opposite, and his grip only served to tighten as Andy replied.

"No. It wasn't her illness." He threw a shot down his throat, before reaching for the next.

Alex forced a frown onto her face as she asked, "What was it then?"

Andy narrowed his eyes, "you know, you ask alot of questions, Alex... why so interested?"

With a shrug, she picked up her shot glass, "I'm a mother. No parent should lose a child." With an almost mocking lift of the glass she threw the drink down her throat, feeling the fiery alcohol burning a path down her innards as she suddenly –finally - felt Barry's hand loosen on hers.

"You've got kids?" He asked, and when Alex looked at him she felt revulsion at the expression of complete disgust on his face, his lip twisting in contempt. It was then that she took the opportunity to pull her hand completely from his grasp, making a large show of wiping it on her skirts as she stood up, a falsely sweet smile plastered over her lips as she resisted slapping him.

"Is that a problem, Barry dear?" She asked sweetly, eyes cold. Barry twitched slightly, hand grasping at his knee and knuckles whitening as he spoke.

"Thought you were a decent bird not a bloody prozzie," his voice was riddled with distaste and Alex snorted, downing her last shot before speaking again.

"I could've been both, for the right man," Alex smiled, voice laced with meaning that said, quite clearly, that he was most definitely not that man, nor had she really ever considered him a possibility. With a sarcastic wave, she slipped through the wooden door that signalled the toilets, slipping into the ladies quickly and quietly. It was only on her way out, as she heard a heavy thud of something hitting wood in the men's room, that she wondered about Gene's whereabouts once more, and opened the door tentatively.

---

"Hunt?" She hissed, feeling it necessary to use his second name, though she could think up no plausible explanation as to why. The moment the name left her lips she heard a scraping of a lock, saw a cubicle door open, and a moment later Gene stuck his head out through the gap, face set in a moody pout that sent her body aquiver, even as he threw the door open; there was an odd grunt as the wood slammed into something soft, but she didn't have time to question it as he pulled her roughly to him, allowing the door to slam closed behind her as he brought his mouth down on hers, bruising her lips with the intensity of it. Alex whimpered, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt as she attempted to maintain coherent thought. Unfortunately, as he pressed her up against the wall and allowed his strong hands to wander under the skirt of her dress, all cohesion abandoned her body. He skimmed over the thin fabric of her black French knickers – the ones he had specifically requested earlier in the evening as she dressed. For a moment, she thought he was going to have her right there, in the bathroom of a working man's pub with her supposed 'date' sat, however dejectedly, barely ten metres away on the other side of the wall... but then he'd pulled back, eyes blazing, fingers possessive as they dug into the soft skin of her arse, gaze transfixing her as he spoke in a low, heated growl that set the warm heat between her legs alight.

"Don't expect to be walking tomorrow, Bols," he said, voice sultry as he began grinding his hips into hers and savouring the moan of lustful desire that left her throat, "dressed like that, you're lucky I haven't fucked you over the Quattro!" He dipped his head to suck her earlobe into his mouth before pressing harder against her, mouth moving to her jaw. "Has the smug little Barry-bugger told you anything yet?"

Alex's eyes were closed as his mouth flitted over her face, gentle kisses pressed to her nose, cheek, eyelids and forehead, completely contradicting the harsh diggings of his fingers as they marked her arse and the tops of her thighs. The question registered, but somehow the conflict of his tender kiss, the nearly painful signs of possession he left on her body, rendered her mind incapable, whirring with incongruence, making her feel completely absurd and lost as Gene's effect on her body took hold, every point at which his skin met hers sending blazing heat spiralling up towards her stomach. As she scrabbled for words, she found that they escaped her, and it was only when Gene pulled his head away from hers, eyes questioning as he met her gaze and fingers loosening their grip slightly, that she was able to answer him, though it was ragged, breathy and almost uncertain, as though she had just run a marathon and was now being asked to recite the names of the last twenty-five Prime Ministers in order.

"He... didn't talk alot about Rosa, from what I can gather..." Her chest was heaving, and Gene couldn't seem to resist leaning down to flick his tongue across her bare neck and collarbone, hearing her breath hitch before he spoke.

"What else?" Alex could feel his hot breath on her skin, smell the heady scent of whiskey emanating from him as he moved his mouth up to her ear once again, nuzzling gently, eyes lidded as his arms slid around her waist, holding her to him as his lips teased and caressed her skin.

"He was upset... about Amanda... he was having sex with someone else..." She was shaking, overwhelmed by his proximity, by the demanding tone of his voice that was so totally 'Guv', even when his lips were paying homage to her skin, and his hands were caressing her with the confidence and tenderness of a lover.

"She 'ave a name?" He murmured, slipping one hand up her side and moving to cover her breast, kneading and rolling it in his hands as he bit lightly at her chin, moving again to her ear to nibble lightly on its shell.

"Yes... Tessie, I think it was... no... no not Tessie... Tess? No... Jessie... her name was Jessie..." her hips were pressing hard against his now, pleading for his returned attention, but at the mention of the name he froze, pulling his face back to cup her cheek, eyes intense.

"Jessie?"

Alex nodded, mouth open slightly as she panted for air. "Yes..."

Gene frowned, "Jessie, as in, shorten it and you get Jess?"

Another nod from Alex, and then her hand sought the back of his neck as she attempted to pull him back down to her, wanting to feel his lips on hers once more... But she was disappointed when he grasped her wrist and pulled it away, his mouth set in an angry pout as he stared at the wooden door that led back into the pub. "Bugger," he said softly, pulling away completely and rubbing a hand lightly over his slightly stubbled cheek, eyes full of concentration as Alex tried valiantly to hold herself up without his strong arms around her... She failed, slumping slightly down the wall as he continued to let out a string of obscenities that were impressive even for a man of his expletory vocabulary.

"What is it?" Alex managed, head resting against the wall as she watch him run a hand agitatedly through his floppy hair, briefly contemplating whether he realised he'd peaked it into slight horns and whether it was a deliberate attempt to get her heart pounding.

Gene turned to her, frowning at finding her halfway down the wall and reaching out a hand to lift her up, "think I met this Jess bird," he muttered, glancing down at her behind and reaching out to dust it of the dirt which had collected there as she slid down the dirty wall.

Alex looked at him quizzically, eyebrows raised. "Really? When? Where"

He shrugged, hand resting lightly on her arse as he spoke, "well, some slutty old tart in a halter neck came up and offered me her services so to speak and-"

"And what? Did she say who she was? Did you talk to her? Did you find anything out about her or-?" Her voice was rising with investigatory excitement, but she was soon cut off by Gene's reply, not even trying to hide her impatience as he spoke out over her.

"To be perfectly honest, Bols, I was a bit distracted getting her hands off me crotch to ask whether she'd been hooking up with a murder victim!" There was something oddly defensive in his tone, and Alex frowned, her brow crinkling as she eyed him carefully, watching his jaw grind slightly and his Adam's apple rise and fall as he gulped.

"You let her walk away?" Alex said in disbelief, "without asking her anything?"

Gene stared at her in complete bemusement, "what was I meant to do? The way she was going she'd 'ave 'ad me jacked off under the table before I found out if she was even a local! I was doing you a bloody favour!"

"You didn't ask her anything about him at all?" Alex's voice was laced with desperation, and Gene returned her look with one of annoyance.

"When was I supposed to ask her anything?" He asked exasperatedly, "When she was groping me leg or when she offered me whatever sex I wanted on a silver platter? Jesus, Bolly, what'd you want me to do?" He was exasperated and confused, absolutely befuddled by her attitude; was he supposed to have accepted the strange woman's advances under the pretence of 'investigation'? Because if that was the case, then that must surely mean she was only interested in shagging him, and whatever personal feelings he housed for her must have been unreturned...

"Be professional!" Alex said, waving her hand around for emphasis, expression wrought with frustration. "Just because she propositions you with a shag doesn't mean you have to take her up on it- she was offering you information, Gene, and you turned it away!"

She was angry and pissed off, he knew, but it didn't stop his own resolve snapping, causing indignation to bubble up furiously in the depths of his stomach as he pressed her back against the wall, eyes black with a combination of lust and displeasure. The length of his body pressed against hers as he hissed at her, feeling her shake against him, unknowing as to whether it was out of desire or fear; at that moment it didn't matter.

"I turned away a floozy who'd sooner stick her gob round my cock than tell me anything about bloody Jeremy McKellen, Bolly! And the only reason I didn't take her up on it was you!" His eyes were blazing as he jabbed her hard in the arm, seeing the shock on her face, passion ruling his head as he gripped her chin in his hand, jaw tight as he went on, voice lower now, but still full of impassioned anger. "You're in my head, Alex... so if I don't shag the first bit of fluff that wanders in for a quick one then I'm sorry, but she wanted it, and I didn't want her..." there was a brief pause before he added, "I want _you_, Bolly... and though there's many things I'd do for a collar, shagging some cheap piece of arse when I'd rather be fucking you isn't one of them..."

Their eyes locked, burning with passion and warmth as he moved to press their lips together, the brief contact of their skin enough to send Alex into shivers, even as the wooden door to their left swung open.

"Joe, you in 'ere?" The voice was slurred, and as the door opened to reveal a slightly inebriated Andy Summerton, Alex gasped, vaguely wondering just how much alcohol he had consumed since she vacated the table. Instantly, Andy's head snapped up from the floor to glance quickly from her to Gene with disbelief before glaring at her accusingly. "Knew you were fishy!" He was slurring slightly, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction, but even as he stepped forwards to grab her by the arm, Gene's fist flew into his jaw, the sickening crunch causing Alex to flinch as the force of the blow sent Andy's head into the wall with such force that he crumpled to the floor. Alex glared at Gene in reprimand, but he'd already turned away, dragging Andy's unconscious form into the cubicle where Joe already slumped without any hesitation at all.

"You best get back to your poncy-twonk, Bols," Gene muttered, avoiding eye contact so he didn't have to see the look of outrage in her gaze. When she didn't move, he frowned up at her, noting the slightly embarrassed look on her face and raising one eyebrow in silent question. Alex closed her eyes briefly before daring to speak, and Gene noticed with amusement that she kept her eyes to the ground as she did so.

"I might have blown that part of the operation ever-so-slightly..." she said softly, bracing herself for his snort of amusement, eventually blinking when she realized it wasn't coming. Looking up to meet his eyes she crossed her arms, "come on then, bring on the arrogant commentary about how the posh-bird messed it up!"

Gene blinked, looking her over briefly before shrugging, leaning back against the cubicle wall. "So we both screwed up then?"

Alex stared. Was this Gene being rational? He hadn't made a smarmy quip or turned the argument she had used around to hurt her – he was just accepting it, shrugging it off like it didn't matter... "But I-"

Gene rolled his eyes, stepping forwards to cup her face in his hand, "Look Bols, I ain't chuffed we didn't get anything either, but if it means I don't have to watch some nancy prick trying to get in yer knickers, well... well to be honest, I'm happy as a pig in shit." He pressed a fleeting kiss to her lips before pulling away again, gently stroking down her cheek. "Go get in the car, Bols; I'll be there in five..." His kiss was harder this time, stronger, more passionate, and she melted into him, sucking lightly as his tongue probed her mouth. When he withdrew she kept her eyes lidded, even as he pressed the Quattro keys into her waiting hand, his breath on her face as he looked at her, feeling his body stir with desire at the sight of her flushed face and swollen lips, wondering how long he'd have to wait before he could lose himself in her again...

"Get going, Bolly," he murmured, lightly nuzzling her ear, "much as I'd love to shag you right 'ere, I ain't doing it with two other blokes in the room." With a slight squeeze of her behind, he pushed her towards the door, watching her sashay out with a wave of lust cresting in his stomach –soon, he told himself. Soon he'd be buried within her once more, feeling her writhe beneath him and listening to nothing but her heavy breathing and wanton moans... Very soon, he repeated to himself, waiting only a minute before following her out and casting a practised eye around the room.

----

Alex slid into the Quattro, her legs shaking with the effort of walking, thankful for the support of the welcoming leather seats as she attempted to recollect her breathing and calm the rush of lust that had risen up in her stomach as Gene held her against the door.

Leaving the pub, she'd had to endure several callous looks from Adrian and Barry, and it would seem that half of the other punters had also turned against her in the ten minutes during which she had vacated to the bathroom. She didn't like to think what vicious rumours had since been spread about her – perhaps that she was as frigid as a Nun, or that she was secretly a lesbian and had been using Barry to elicit jealousy in a former lover? She laughed at that; two years ago, her brain would never have allowed her to come up with such lucid vendettas, and now they tumbled freely from the dark recesses of her mind, a prominent reminder of the amount of time spent in the presence of anti-feministic males with minds like sewers.

With a sigh, she settled back into the seat, lifting her hips briefly to tug the skirts of her dress down her legs. Much as she adored Gene's reaction to her slinky dresses, and much as she couldn't wait for him to follow up on his promise of removing it, it was an undeserved punishment that the bare legs she had revealed on his insistence – because tights would only slow the shagging process down later on – now stuck to the leather of his car as her body heat warmed it up.

She didn't doubt that Gene would more than compensate for said discomfort once they finally arrived back at the flat, since as yet his prowess had not failed to impress, but whilst he remained in the pub, a stupid distance away from the pulse that beat like a samba between her thighs, she couldn't for a second see the positives of revealing such a large amount of skin to the elements.

As if hearing her thoughts, the door opened on the driver's side and Gene slipped himself in next to her, shutting the door almost reverently before glancing across at her, eyes brilliantly blue as he trailed his eyes slowly over her body. Alex shivered, managing to collect herself enough to pose the question, "did you find anything?"

Gene shook his head, slipping on his driving gloves. "Nope; guess she buggered off with some bloke or other." With a slight shrug, he turned the key in the ignition, putting the car into gear and pulling out of his parking space before settling his left hand on Alex's inner thigh, pushing the black fabric up over her hips as his fingers caressed the crease of her thigh, tracing over the hem of her knickers as he glanced briefly at the road, then focused on the small red ribbons that decorated the black, expensive French lace. He stifled a groan, fingers increasing the pressure on the soft skin of her leg as he began to drive them back at speed. The whole time Alex kept her eyes closed, breath slightly rasping as his fingers teased back and forth, briefly applying pressure through the fabric of her knickers to rub against her engorged clit, leaving her quaking at his touch. By the time they pulled up outside Luigi's, Alex was nearly incapable of movement, stumbling through the side door and almost falling to the ground, even with Gene's strong arm wrapped securely around her waist.

"Gene," she managed as he lifted her up to her feet again, "Gene, I need a drink..."

Gene shook his head, eyes hard as he roughly swung her up into his arms, carrying her up the stairs swiftly as his gloved hand lightly traced over her knee-cap. "Don't need a drink, Bolly," he told her firmly, movement confident as he continued on his way up to Alex's flat. "I need a shag; I'm not sitting and watching you prance about in that thing any longer; it's coming off." He set her down outside the flat, slipping his key in the lock as Alex leant heavily against his shoulder, breath teasing over the skin of his neck as he pushed the door open.

---

A few moments later, he had her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her up against the wall of her flat, hands pushing the fabric of her dress upwards so that it bunched around her waist. The lace of her underwear rubbed against his jeans, the friction eliciting groans of delight from the back of his throat, whilst he fiercely possessed her mouth, teeth and lips clashing passionately with hers.

His hand sought out the barely-there fabric of her knickers, pushing it aside as he slipped one finger within her slick, oily warmth. "So wet..." he murmured in amazement, lips barely leaving hers as he plunged his fingers repeatedly into her, "wanna fuck you, Bolly!" he whispered, grasping the hem of her dress and tugging at it impatiently. "Off," he grunted, "how'd I get it off?" His annoyance was evident as he searched for a zip, briefly considering that it was supposed to lift off, before Alex's sultry whisper reached his ears.

"Rip it!" She said, her legs tightening around his back as her fingers began fumbling with his shirt. "I've got nicer ones..."

Gene groaned, fingers stilling as he moved to nibble at her neck. "God, you're hot..."

She laughed breathily, "you haven't seen anything yet, Gene..." Even as she spoke, he withdrew his fingers from her, bringing both hands up to the top of her dress before ripping it viciously aside, revealing the matching lace of her bra as the sound of tearing fabric filled the air. His lips fell to her heaving chest as he hoisted her up the wall, pinning her there as he left a series of love bites around the prominent curve of her breast, a line of red marks forming as his hands ripped the dress further until it fell away from her lithe body.

"Love this..." he murmured, "you feel so good..." his hand rose to her bra, snapping it quickly from her chest before bringing his mouth down to cover her nipple, sucking gently, tongue flicking out at the taut bud until Alex emitted a low moan of pleasure. His fingers returned to the quick of her very briefly, whilst his mouth found hers. Just as she reached the edge of orgasm, teetering on the brink as his thumb rubbed her clit gently, he brought his glistening hand up to their mouths, tracing her bottom lip with his finger and opening his eyes in time to see her tongue flick out to taste it, a soft groan leaving his throat as he pulled his hand away, taking each of his dripping digits into his mouth in turn, deliberately trailing his tongue exaggeratedly over each, basking in the simple pleasure of watching her pupils dilate with arousal, grinding his hips against hers until she climaxed against him, body thrashing, a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead as he kept his eyes locked on hers.

When each of his fingers had been thoroughly cleansed, and her body had stopped quaking, he bent forwards, locking their mouths together as he lifted her into his chest to carry her across the room until his knees bumped the edge of the sofa, causing them both to stumble, falling forwards onto the cushions with a grunt. Gene lifted his knee, grinding it against Alex's crux as his lips fell to her neck again, just as her hands fought with the buckle of his belt, pushing trousers and boxers down past his buttocks.

Her hand sought out his hard length, wrapping around his girth like a glove, encircling him with warmth so blissful he closed his eyes to the sensation, almost whimpering as she traced her thumb across his sensitive tip. After a moment, he reopened his eyes to meet hers, gaze heated and lustful as he lowered his mouth to her stomach, pulling out of her grasp as he slid down her body, teeth closing over the elastic waistband of her knickers before tugging them slowly down her body, lifting her hips with his hands to slide the flimsy fabric away from the warm, heady scent that filtered into his nostrils and made his erection throb with desire.

He wanted to taste her, wanted to bring her to another quaking orgasm with just his tongue, feel her pulsating around the supple muscle of his mouth and lap at the silky elixir that drove him wild... but more than anything he wanted to be inside her, and at that moment his only coherent thought was that she was willing and wet beneath him, and that if he waited much longer while looking at her wanton body, he'd come right there, all over her perfect stomach... And much as the idea was worth entertaining, he knew nothing would compare to the feel of her slick channel grasping and clenching around him...

So instead of licking her, he drew the pants from her ankles and lifted one long leg over his shoulder before plunging his whole length into her, savouring the soft moan of desire that left her throat as he brought his mouth to hers, biting down slightly as she pushed back up at him, tasting copper as she let out a sultry moan that sent his head spinning. His thrusts were hard and deep, his shirt sticking to his back as his breathing rate increased, head falling to her shoulder, his mouth open against her neck as he panted, breathing heavily as Alex's legs tightened around the backs of his thighs, pulling him in deeper.

His eyes closed to the feel of her, hips blurring as he gasped his pleasure, head lolling on her chest, feeling the hot flush of her skin beneath his forehead... She lifted his head, pulling his mouth to hers and sucking at his upper lip, tasting sweat and salty skin as his fingers squeezed tightly at her breast, the already tender skin burning with pleasure at his touch, causing her to buck upwards, dragging his other hand down between them to press it against her clit. Skilful fingers twisted and pressed at her until she was throwing her head back, eyes closed in bliss and mouth wide as her orgasm took her, blinding her to all but the sensation of his pumping thrusts and the breath on her neck.

"Gene!" She shrieked, one hand clawing down his back as her pleasure consumed her, feeling Gene stiffen within her and above her, thrusting one final time into the depths of her body before releasing into her, stars bursting before his eyes as he growled out in her ear.

"Bolly!" He grunted, "shit... fuck... that was... fuck..."

Alex laughed breathlessly, tangling a hand in his hair as she met his eyes, her hazel orbs glistening with delight. "That was fantastic," she said, loosening her legs from his body and dropping them to the floor, stifling a laugh at the realisation she was still wearing her heels.

Gene murmured his agreement, nipping lightly at her ear as he whispered huskily to her, "you're great for my ego, Bollykecks... bloody fantastic."

----

**HUGE thanks to Feline333 yet again for beta-ing for me :)**

**Hope you liked!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	18. An Innocent Phone Call

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Big smut warning, just in case :-)**

_--- _

Despite their best efforts, the team were unsuccessful in procuring anything more than the mysterious 'Jessie's' second name, even with Ray , Chris and Shaz spending the next week's worth of evenings huddled in The Black Bull amongst the locals. As much as they probed the other punters for information, they received nothing of merit; Jeremy McKellen's love life remained a mystery, and the only advancement in their investigation was the accidental obtainment of Jess's second name, stumbled upon in a slurred conversation between Ray and Jess herself, with Shaz's sharp ears tuning in enough to note it down on a beer mat.

The next day, they'd checked the records. Jess Meridan had no previous convictions; There were no driving tickets, no fines, and no record of shoplifting or assault; slutty as she might be, Alex had to admit that there was no reason to believe Jess Meridan had any involvement in the death of Rosa McKellen, and, once again, the trail fell cold. Each morning as she entered CID she would look towards Shaz for news, but each morning she was bitterly disappointed.

---

Working as a Police officer had never been boring for Alex; she always found a thrill in the chasing down of criminals, in serving justice out to those who broke the law, and helping those whose lives had been hurt in the process of whatever misdeed had occurred.

These days, it wasn't so much that she was bored, as much as she simply went to work with apathy, knowing that the one case that she wanted to solve, the one case that nagged at her brain almost constantly whilst she sat at her desk, was the one she couldn't solve. The next few weeks past in a flurry of burglaries, thefts and muggings, and though there was plenty to do with her time, it felt wasted and pointless, and whenever she paused for breath, she couldn't help the rise of utter dread in her chest when she considered that Rosa McKellen's killer was still at large, capable of killing again. At those times, Gene became her rock.

He noted the way her face would whiten, how her lips would set in a sad line, how her shoulders would hunch and how her eyes lost their glimmer, and somehow he was there at her side, playfully insulting her until she laughed and slid her arms around him. Gene's newfound presence in her life became its highlight, and when the team drifted across the road to Luigi's after hours, they were fast becoming accustomed to seeing their two senior officers walking close beside one another, heads bent in conversation as though they were plotting some secret operation. In actual fact, most evenings Gene took pleasure in detailing exactly what he planned to do with her, to the point that once they reached the restaurant itself she collapsed into her chair with legs the consistency of jelly, half-quaking as he ordered their meals. It was a sign of how much she had changed in 82 that she allowed him to choose for her; in 2008 she would have considered it offensive if her date ordered her meal without any input from her, but here, with Gene, she simply relented, smiling every time he passed on the offer of garlic bread, explaining that as much as he loved kissing her, he wasn't doing it when she tasted quite so prominently of garlic.

She thought about asking him to return the favour by not smoking before he kissed her, but it remained her guilty secret that she loved the taste of tobacco and whiskey on his tongue, and that actually, the scent on his jacket warmed her heart whenever he was near. She took to picking his shirts up off the floor after hours spent in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heated kisses, slipping them around herself before rejoining him in bed, lifting the shirt cuff to her nose before she drifted off to sleep, enveloped in his arms and his scent.

It didn't escape her notice that when they awoke the next morning, Gene would always treat his own clothes with the utmost respect, sliding the soft cotton from her body with a gentle touch that always had her in shivers; The first few times, she put it down to an early morning calmness, but on the one occasion that she opted to wear knickers to bed, they were torn from her body almost violently, whilst his shirt received the same gentle treatment as before. Much as it should have frustrated her, she found it to be so endearing that, occasionally, she wore knickers just for the purpose of having him rip them off her.

Despite their new relationship, they still fought like cat and dog every day, and though some of those arguments rose from jealousy, it would appear that despite living together and sharing a bed each night, their inability to bear one another's stubborn nature remained as strong as ever. Sometimes, the office disagreements followed them home and they spent evenings angrily pulling each other's arguments to pieces from the confines of the flat, before one of them caved, giving in to the lustful fire burning in their stomachs; to Alex's dismay, she was almost always the first to relent, grabbing Gene fiercely by the shirt and pulling him to her in a kiss that reeked of fury and anger.

On those evenings, they ended up having sex on whichever surface happened to be closest, their union a constant battle for dominance until the very end, when Gene would somehow always manage to twist her into a position of complete vulnerability right before she reached climax. In those moments, when she teetered on the brink of completion, writhing and whimpering beneath him, Gene would stop, refusing to allow her to that final pinnacle until she submitted to him, relinquishing her argument for the sake of orgasm. For the first time, Gene found himself winning arguments against her as it became less a battle of brains and more a battle of sexuality. In the office, she always won, because if he kept arguing with her he knew they'd end up shagging right there- so he relented. But when they came home, it didn't matter; he would argue continuously, knowing that sooner or later she would cave, abandoning her verbal assault and instead moving to continue the same argument through physical means, always determined to dominate, to win this battle of physicality that seemed to rock both their worlds; each time, he revelled in letting her lose.

Gene basked in the broadness of her sexuality, in her willing nature and her seemingly endless sex drive- when they returned home in the evenings, both of them were insatiable, and the sofa, which had remained in near-pristine condition before Gene's arrival, was fast becoming creaky and worn. It became increasingly difficult to resist pulling her into the office during working hours, his mind a tumultuous source of lustful scenarios almost one hundred percent of the time, and when the office was quiet and slow, it seemed unfair that he should sit there with an aching erection between his legs when there was evidently no work to be done. Unfortunately, even when Alex was quivering with lust, she had told him on numerous occasions that they could not afford to give into their burning desires during working hours; if the Super were to walk in, it was impossible to say what he might do.

But Gene was an expert at finding loopholes; it was his job. And so if Alex said he couldn't fuck her at work, then fine... but that didn't mean he had to sit there without any entertainment whatsoever.

---

The phone rang in the office, breaking through the languid noise of the office as Alex reached to her right, bringing the phone to her ear and answering as professionally as she could. "DI Drake," she said, still scanning the piece of paperwork before her as she sucked thoughtfully on her biro.

A strange groan came down the line and Alex frowned, "hello?" she said.

"Bols, have I ever told you how bloody sexy your voice is?" Gene's voice reached down the line, throaty and raw, and Alex froze, eyes drifting up to his office and seeing him sat with his legs up on the desk, the phone held to his ear in one hand whilst the other swirled a glass of whiskey between his fingers. One pair of the office shutters were closed, blocking him from view of the rest of the team, who were all huddled around one another and murmuring jokes quietly, but Alex could see him clear as day.

Alex bit her lip thoughtfully, and then drew out a notepad, smirking across at him as she asked, reasonably loudly, "can I ask why you're calling please, Sir?"

There was a small murmur of appreciation down the phone, and Alex could see Gene closing his eyes, reclining even further in his chair. "Like it when you call me that," he told her with a soft groan, "gives me the 'orn."

Alex gulped, but spoke again, still striving to keep her voice level. "I'm afraid you're going to have to tell me the purpose of your call, Sir, or I'll have to ask you to hang up."

"Been thinking about you all mornin'," Gene growled, and Alex saw him shift his hips, parting his legs slightly in the way she knew only too well to mean he was aroused and hard. Her stomach flipped and a wave of lust crashed over her as he went on, "been thinking about last night..."

Alex crossed her legs over one another, swallowing hard before speaking, words tumbling forth without real conscious thought, urging him to continue despite knowing she could do nothing about the liquid desire boiling away within her. "Could you explain the incident in detail please, Sir?" She tapped her pen on her pad as though in expectancy, but in actual fact she was searching for an outlet of desire , watching him carefully.

He was smirking, dropping his legs from the table and placing his whiskey down on the desk. "Which incident? Do you mean the one where I fucked you over the back of the sofa? Or the one where I licked you out and you pretended to read your posh little newspaper?"

Alex's whimper was stifled as she bit her lip, collecting herself briefly before answering, voice tight, "Whichever part will aid us in our enquiry, Sir."

Gene shifted in his chair, undoing his trousers as he spoke, looking up to meet her eyes. "Maybe when you were on your knees with my cock in your mouth..." He grinned, and then closed his eyes, resting his head back as he gripped his hot length in his fist. "Yeah... when you sucked me off and started touching yourself... I liked that, Bolly."

Her centre was throbbing with need, and Alex had to take a large swig of the cold tea on her desk before she dared speak again. "Is that all, Sir?" her voice was weak and quiet as she watched him, seeing his arm moving slightly, a tell-tale sign of just what he was doing to himself, what she longed to be doing to him...

"Do you like it, Bols?" He asked softly, "d'you like me fucking you in the mouth?"

There was a moment's pause where Alex considered how best to reply, before the honest truth tumbled forwards, "Yes," she said quietly, blushing furiously.

"Yes what?" He demanded, his voice gruff.

"Yes, _Sir_!" She glowered at him through the pane of glass, but his eyes were still closed as he worked himself, speaking in a soft growl that sent shivers of desire down her spine.

"Good girl," Gene groaned, tracing his thumb lightly over his tip as he spoke again. "I like it when you suck me, Bolly... the way you know just where to put your tongue... and that little groan you make when I'm in so deep... bloody gorgeous..." his breathing was slightly ragged, and Alex could see his mouth hanging open, only able to imagine the movements he was making beneath that desk, longing for the rest of CID to disappear so that she didn't have to sit here so conservatively, so that she could join him and let him relieve the ache that was building up between her thighs...

Shifting her chair slightly so that her back was towards the rest of the team, she lightly ran her hand over the denim fabric of her jean-clad thighs, wishing to be free of the hindrance of her clothing so that she could quell the pounding ache in her loins. It was as though his voice were acting as a flame to ignite her whole body, his words embedding themselves in her mind and combining with the explicit memories of the previous evening - being banned from touching him except with her mouth, finding herself burning up with arousal and moving to stem the need herself. She had ended up bringing herself off while Gene erupted into her mouth, and now the desire to cross the space between her desk and his office to provide a repeat performance was overwhelming.

"I want you again, Bolly," he said gruffly. "I'm hard an' I'm horny and you look bloody delicious."

"Thank you, Sir," Alex whispered, needing to hang up to stop the quivering need that pounded through her body. "I think that's enough to be getting on with for-"

"Don't you dare hang up!" He growled. "Are you wet for me?" Gene's voice was demanding and hoarse, and another shiver shot down her spine at his words. She glanced across at the other members of the team, wondering if they had noticed yet that she was flushing as red as a tomato and shaking like a leaf in a hurricane; they were turned away, and she breathed a soft sigh of relief. She searched for a reply to his question that was not so blatant that they would all turn their heads towards her, but eventually, having lost the ability to speak, she gave in, simply looking up to meet his eyes and giving a barely perceptible nod. He smirked.

"D'you want to touch yourself now, Bolly? Are you thinking about it?" She nodded again, her skin flushing pink as arousal took hold and she quivered in excitement, his lustful voice setting her whole body ablaze.

"So am I," he told her softly, stroking himself continually. "Love watching you, Bols... you always look so bloody horny when you fuck yourself; are you horny now?" She had closed her eyes now, and was nodding as his hot voice sent tendrils of delicious heat through her whole body. "Me too," he told her softly, "can you see me, Alex?" The use of her first name was a catalyst in her lust and she had to stifle a sob of strangled desire as she looked at him. "I'm thinking about fucking you – your mouth..." he hissed slightly, eyes closing briefly as he caressed himself, "is it turning you on, Alex? Knowing I'm sat here with my hand around my cock, thinking about you?"

Her strangled whisper of 'yes' sent shivers down his spine, eyes flying open to look at her; she was flushed, a small tendril of hair sticking to her forehead as she fought to gain control of her own body. Gene groaned, watching her mouth form a silent 'o' as she closed her eyes in her struggle. He waited until they opened again before speaking.

"Pick the pen up, Bolly," he said quietly, shifting around more to meet her gaze, eyes blazing vividly with lust and desire. He watched as she followed his instruction, chuckling in amusement as he realized that her whole body was shaking, seeing her drop the pen several times before she had it in a firm grasp. With a smirk, he growled, "Now put it in yer posh tarts gob, and don't say anything!" As she obeyed, slipping the top of the blue biro between her lips, Gene groaned, speeding up his strokes as he worked to relieve the painful erection that called out in desperation for Alex's touch. "Close your eyes, and do exactly what I tell you." His voice was so dominant, so full of lust and desire, that Alex couldn't even bring herself to feel objectified; he wanted her, and her whole body was wracked with need for him, to the point that somehow it felt right, in its own sordid way, to sit here, eyes closed, with a phone pressed tightly to her ear, the rest of her colleagues less than three metres away, and do his bidding.

"Think about last night, Bolly... think about the feel of me inside you... are you doing that?" Alex nodded; she was.

With a smirk, Gene went on, "how'd I taste, Bols? Do I taste good?"

Another nod; Yes.

"You feel good an' all... Love your mouth... love watching' you wrap your gob around me, feelin' you moan on me when you come..." his breathing was ragged, hand pumping faster as he looked at her. The pen was still between her lips, covered by her white-knuckled fist, eyes closed as per his instruction. "Suck the pen," he growled, "Wanna watch you..."

He half expected her to hang up, glower at him and angrily discard the pen in a fit of rage; instead, she conceded, slipping the pen noticeably deeper into her mouth, eyes flying open to watch him, her gaze filled with lust and desire that sent tendrils of heat to his loins, even as he grasped himself harder, hand fluttering up and down his hardness as her cheeks hollowed out, the action of sucking made visible as he had never cared to notice, the filthy depths of his mind replacing the pen with his own length, remembering with a rush of lust the sight of her taking him deep into her mouth, flicking out to caress the underside with her wet, talented tongue...

"I'm gunna come, Bolly," he growled, meeting her eyes and seeing her remove the pen from her mouth, tongue darting out to flit across her lips, teasingly slipping one finger into her mouth and waggling her eyebrows daringly at him, "fuck... yes... so... bloody hell... fuck..."A groan left his throat, head lolling back on his chair as he brought himself to a crashing climax, releasing into his own hand, sweat coating his brow as his whole body went rigid with the force of his pleasure.

Alex watched from her own chair, her whole body already shaking and aflame before she saw his head snap back, saw his back go rigid and his hips rise slightly from the chair, hearing the ragged growl torn from his throat as the orgasm ripped through his whole body. She was transfixed, biting down so hard on her lip that it bled, her own haunches shaking violently as, unbidden, the desire and lust culminated in her own release, biting her lip ever harder as she fought to keep her voice in check, to stop a wild shriek of pleasure tearing from her throat. Her breathing was ragged, her chest was heaving, and she could hear the soft, smug chuckle that echoed from Gene's chest, even as he fought for air himself. She fell back in her chair, glancing across to the others; somehow, they remained oblivious to her, absorbed in whatever obscene conversation they were entertaining themselves with. Alex breathed a sigh of relief, glancing across at Gene, who was still sat with his head back, hand in his lap, looking thoroughly rumpled and shaggable. She gulped, just as Gene spoke again.

"Get in here and clean up the mess I just made, Bollyknickers; I can't touch anything at the moment."

---

Alex stood up two minutes later, her lip bleeding profusely as she stumbled towards Gene's office on shaking legs. Shaz saw her, standing up and rushing towards her with a worried expression on her face. "You're bleeding Ma'am! Are you alright? You look awful flushed!"

Alex nodded weakly, absently touching her bleeding lip with shaking fingers. "I'm fine, Shaz... fine." Shaz sloped off to the other side of the office, rejoining the rest of the team at her dismissal. Without another word, Alex opened Gene's door, slipping inside and taking in the sight of him, his eyes still closed even as the door clicked shut and she closed the other pair of shutters. Her whole body was aflame, every limb shaking as she walked towards him. His eyes opened as she stopped in front of him, taking the sight of her in through blurry eyes. He stared, then blinked in disbelief, taking in the small droplet of blood on her chin, reaching out his clean hand to tug her into his lap, instantly bringing his mouth to the slightly bloodied lip, licking and sucking lightly, his sullied hand held awkwardly away from her as the other cupped the back of her head, twining fingers into her hair.

"Bloody hell, Bols, did you suck on a knife?" His voice was gentle and teasing as he pulled back, kissing her gently on the forehead as he shifted his body slightly, reclining them both in his chair as she curled into his chest. A few moments later Alex reached out for his awkwardly outstretched hand, bringing it tenderly to her lips and taking each finger into her mouth in turn. Gene groaned, feeling the first stirrings of desire in his groin and letting out a soft whimper as her tongue trailed over his palm, her eyes closed in rapture as he watched her, transfixed.

"When I said cleaning Bols, I meant with a tissue..." He trailed off as she pulled her mouth away, twining their fingers together intimately as she rested her head on his shoulder, lip throbbing painfully. They were silent for a few moments before he spoke again, "still taste good?" his voice was playful as he loosened his hold on her hand, trailing his fingers up over her legs as his eyes danced, watching as Alex's face contorted with amusement.

"Yes, Gene," she smiled, " you still taste good," she pressed her lips lightly to his neck, careful of her split lip as she flicked teasingly out at the hollow of his neck, pressing herself closer to him as his hands slid to her arse.

"Can't believe you came in front of Ray and Chris..." he murmured, "You dirty cow..."

Alex said nothing, simply closing her eyes and nuzzling his neck lightly, "_Your_ dirty cow," she corrected softly.

His hold on her tightened, pulling her closer to his chest, "yeah..." he murmured, pressing his lips into her forehead, "mine."

----

Hours later, Alex was indulging herself with a bubble bath, her head resting comfortably on the tub as her right arm draped over the side, dripping water onto the towel she had carefully laid on the floor before climbing in. The door opened slowly, and she lifted one eyelid to see Gene entering, a large glass of whiskey in his hand, which he set lightly on the shelf, approaching her almost carefully before kneeling at her side. "Come to bed, Bolly," he murmured, reaching out to trace the bare skin of her hips with tender fingers.

Alex smiled, lifting one hand to his cheek. "I'll be in soon... I just have to relax for a bit before you repeat last night's performance." Her eyes were laughing and he half-smiled, cupping her hand with his, holding it to his face briefly before turning his face to kiss her wrist.

"You're all wet," he murmured quietly.

"Yes," she said, caressing her thumb down the side of his face before murmuring, "but the tub probably isn't big enough for us both." She winked at him, running a finger lightly across his lips.

He grinned, rolling his eyes before shifting his body around and sitting down on the towel, pulling her hand down across his chest, holding it lightly in his own, deep in thought for a long while. "Probably a good thing," he conceded eventually, "I'm gunna lose me knackers the rate you're going."

"Well, we can't be having that," Alex teased, slipping her hand under his shirt and sighing contentedly at the feel of his soft skin, the reassuring pound of his heartbeat. "I do like living with you, Gene," she murmured softly, tilting her head slightly to look at him, taking in his profile, watching as his lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. She felt a small rush of warmth in her chest, watching him twist his head lightly round to meet her gaze. His blue eyes were gentle and unguarded, showing that same sense of contentment reflecting back at her plainly and openly.

"Yeah," he murmured, stroking her arm absently. "I like it an' all, Bols..."

She smiled, tracing patterns in his chest as she spoke, almost teasingly, "and I don't mind you, of course..."

Gene smirked. "Not just in it for the mind-blowing shags then?"

Alex knelt up, sitting behind him and slipping her other arm around his chest, nuzzling his neck. Gene grinned as she spoke softly against his skin. "Mmm... well... they were a very important factor in my assessment of your compatibility... crucial, in fact..." She grinned, resting her head on his shoulder, ignoring the fact her wet limbs were causing his shirt to stick to his body as she went on. "But you passed that particular test with flying colours!"

Smiling, he twisted his head to hers, lightly resting his forehead on her cheek as he looked at her with soft eyes. "Yeah... always was a corker in that department, Bolly..." His gaze fell on her lip, slightly swollen and scabbing, and he grimaced. "How's the gob?"

She snorted at his bluntness, answering honestly, "Tender." She slid back into the bath as he stood up, peeling off his shirt and tossing it in the laundry basket before perching himself on the edge of the bathtub, his fingers stroking her hair whilst he eyed her breasts appreciatively as they rose and fell, resting just above the line of water, completely open to his lusty gaze... He looked at her face again, seeing her closed eyes and noting with a grimace the way her lip shone like a vivid red beacon against the pallor of her skin. He gently traced the tip of his index finger across the red mark, a mixture of violent guilt and passionate ownership rising in his chest and wrapping him in a brief cocoon of confusion. It was only when she jerked her head slightly away from his finger tip that he realized the pain she was in.

"Sorry," he said softly, fingers trailing lightly down over her neck and collarbone. "Got carried away with the whole phone call thing and... well... I wasn't expecting you to come, if I'm being honest."

Alex smiled, turning her head to his lap and pressing a soft kiss to his trouser-clad thigh. "You underestimate me, Gene," she teased. "I'm filthy."

"Mmm..." he said, allowing a murmur of assent to leave his throat before leaning forwards to gently brush the top of her head with his lips. "Good thing you're having a bath then, Fizzy-knickers."

"Absolutely," she murmured. "Though I have to admit to being knicker-free at this particular moment in time..."

Gene groaned, spare hand clenching down on his thigh, knuckles whitening. "I was just about managing to ignore that, Bols," he told her quietly, lifting his arm away and standing up awkwardly as he attempted to disguise the bulge in his trousers. "Finish yer bath, love," he dropped another kiss to her forehead, moving to pull back when Alex grasped his wrist, tugging lightly.

"You could always get in with me," she said, smiling up at him.

He frowned, "thought it weren't big enough."

Alex laughed. "It's not big enough for you to shag me, Gene, but it's big enough for a chat and a cuddle."

His eyebrows flew up into his hairline. "A cuddle?"

"Yes, Gene. You know, where two people have their arms around each other for a long period of time in a comfortable position and-" Her voice was teasing, that now familiar sense of patronisation bringing a warmth to his chest that he had to push aside in order to keep his facial expression in check.

"The Gene Genie doesn't cuddle," he said with distaste.

Alex snorted, raising her own eyebrow in disbelief. "I'd have to say I don't completely agree with that statement," she said, laughing at his moody pout as he looked at the wall. She knelt up again, tugging lightly at his belt and unfastening his button and zip, smirking when he looked down at her with heated eyes. "Come and cuddle with me Gene," she murmured, pulling trousers and boxers down to reveal his erection. She pressed her lips lightly to his wet tip, inhaling sharply as her lip began to sting viciously. Instantly, Gene pulled her away, ignoring his own arousal as he tilted her head up to look at him.

"You're gunna 'urt yerself doing things like that one of these days, you know," his voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of concern that made her smile inwardly, tugging lightly on his hand.

"Sit with me," she said softly.

Gene looked at her for several moments, then sighed, relenting as he kicked his trousers and boxers off, removing his socks before stepping into the bath behind her, sitting down and allowing her to lay between his legs, her head resting back on his chest as she sighed contentedly. "You're comfortable," she told him, smiling to herself as she felt him chuckle, arms slipping around her waist, one hand covering her breast, kneading gently as he replied.

"You're bloody gorgeous." His lips brushed over her shoulder and up the side of her neck, savouring the soft murmur of pleasure that left Alex's lips as he trailed his hand down to her thigh.

She leant into him, eyes closed. "You've ruined me for other men, Gene," she told him softly, hand covering his on her thigh, twisting their fingers around one another.

For a moment, Gene was silent, the force of her statement hitting her like a ten tonne brick; he'd warned her he would ruin her before any of this happened... and yet there was no bitterness in her voice, no resentment... For the first time, he was able to push his doubts about his ability to maintain a relationship aside, happy in the knowledge that she was content to be with him, that she didn't regret him... "Told you I would," he said softly, voice tentative as he kissed her neck lightly. "But I don't want you to have other men..."

Alex turned her head to look at him, seeing the openness he reserved only for her, showing the vulnerability, the depth of feeling that he tried to hide... His statement might have sounded possessive to an outsider, but she knew to take it for what it really was – his silent confession that they were together, that he wanted to be the sole man in her life. His confession about his father's cruelty remained the only time she heard such depth of honesty when they were clothed, and she understood now that it had been a one-off, a heart wrenching experience that had left him confused and hurt. Only when they were naked, now, laid bare to one another's eyes and bodies, would he allow her this insight into his heart and mind; each time, his honesty warmed her heart, and in these rare moments of clarity she wondered whether there had ever been a world without Gene Hunt. He consumed her completely, and her statement had been completely true; no other man could ever compare, and in that sense, he had ruined her.

"I only want you, Gene," she whispered in a small voice, "you know that..." Gene nodded slowly.

"Yeah, Bolly... I know." He removed his hand from the crease of her thigh, cupping her face in his grasp as he murmured, "Only want you, too..." he pressed his lips to her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks, her jaw, avoiding the cut on her lips as he paid silent reverence to each contour, each ridge and fleck of colour in her cheeks.

"Gene," she whispered, "kiss me..."

He shook his head, not lifting his lips from her skin as he murmured, "No... Don't wanna hurt you... Let me do this, Bolly... I'll be good..." His hand remained beneath her chin whilst the other released her breast, sliding down to the heat between her legs, slipping into her quickly and easily, causing her to moan softly in his ear as he continued, slipping a third finger into her, filling her up and making her press up into his hands.

"Oh god..." she murmured, "mmm... you're always good, Gene..."

He kissed her softly on the neck, gently pulling her head aside to provide better access, hearing her whimper as his teeth nipped across her flesh. "Should go to bed..." he murmured quietly, rubbing the heel of his hand into her clit and making no move to leave. Alex moaned, rolling her hips, inadvertently brushing his erection, causing a hiss to pass between his lips, biting slightly harder on her shoulder as he pressed himself into her spine. "Bed," he said again, with slightly more conviction. Alex shook her head.

"No," she whispered, "here."

"Not big enough," he grunted, fingers still thrusting into her with speed.

"Yes it is... we'll make it big enough..." She let out a small whimper as he thrust again, her body going rigid as his hand repeatedly ground against her clitoris, hips thrashing in the water and causing half of the baths contents to slosh over the sides. Gene couldn't help the snort of amusement that rose in his throat as it sloshed onto the towel she had carefully laid out, saturating it completely and splashing onto the linoleum covered floor.

When her hips had stilled, Alex twisted around, dislodging Gene's hand as she knelt between his legs, chest-to-chest as she ran her hands lightly down his arms and up his torso, mouth an inch from his as she attempted to tease him into kissing her, desperate for the feel of his tongue on hers. He didn't relent, instead slipping his arms behind her knees, her shriek filling his ears as he lifted her up, her hands grasping at his shoulders for support as he lowered her to straddle him, one leg either side of his hips as he smirked up at her, rubbing his hips against her suggestively.

"Well, Bols?" He growled, "You wanted it in the tub- so show me." He trailed his gaze up over her bare body, taking in her full breasts, the wet hair plastered to her head, skin flushed pink in the aftermath of her orgasm... he felt himself twitch, pressing harder against her, eyes darkening. "I want you."

The simple statement was enough, and Alex lowered herself onto him, gasping as he entered, stretching her wonderfully as she threw her head back, a soft groan of lust bursting from her throat as she took him in as deep as she could before rising up again, grasping his knees as she leant backwards. Gene's mouth fell to her breasts and neck as he thrust up into her, grunting his pleasure as her heat clenched around him, mouth latching onto her nipple as she continued to ride him. He met each thrust with his own, hitting deep within her body every time, the water sloshing around their conjoined bodies, unnoticed by either of them as they lost themselves in the heated embrace, buried in one another.

His hands found her breast and arse, squeezing and caressing as she continued above him, whimpering and gasping with every move, his length slipping in and out of her at increasing speed, obscenities slipping from her lips as she grasped his thighs hard enough to bruise, nails digging into tender flesh and heightening the sensation of their union as she let out a wanton moan. "Oh God... Gene... Gene, I'm nearly there... nearly done... shit... oh God... GENE!" His name left her lips in a shriek of pleasure as he bit down on her breast, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to send her over the edge as his fingers brushed lightly against her clit. She slammed herself down onto him, head thrown back in bliss, eyes closed as her whole being zoomed in on the sensation of him inside her, splitting her deliciously in two, pulsing inside her... She convulsed against him unconsciously as she came, feeling his hold on her tighten, feeling him stiffen within her before suckling hard on her breast, his growl of pleasure stifled against her chest as he burst inside her like a dam, emptying his load and feeling the blissful haze that always came after sex with Alex, the content feeling of completion that said he was exactly where he needed to be.

They fell back against the sides of the bathtub, sated and quivering in pleasure, Alex's face pressing lightly into his neck whilst Gene breathed in the scent of her recently shampooed hair, smiling to himself as he muttered, "your bathtubs my new favourite place to be Bolly..." he shifted slightly, thinking long and hard before adding thoughtfully, "except between yer legs..."

---

**Thanks again to Feline333 my lovely beta! **

**And to all the ladies at the Pit, I hope you found it adequate :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	19. Letting Go Is Hard To Do

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

It was another four weeks before they found a further lead on Rosa McKellen's murder, and the small morsel they gleaned seemed barely worth it in the long run.

Somehow –Alex suspected with more than a few lies and deceptions- Shaz had obtained an official document on Jess Meridan, and when she handed a photocopy to Gene and Alex in the office one morning, they both stared at her in disbelief.

"Shaz, this is a classified document- where did you get this?" Alex couldn't keep the astonishment from her voice, nor the small amount of pride that rose up in her chest, and as she glanced to her left she saw Gene crinkling his brow, as though he were suppressing an imminent compliment.

Shaz blushed slightly, looking to the floor as she spoke, "I looked at the records Ma'am- I couldn't find any Jess Meridan in the Births Register except a seventy year old lady in Southampton... And then I got talking to some bloke who works at the Registry Office, and he said he'd show me about.... only, when he did I pretended to get lost and went into the records room and- well... I found that." She was still pink with embarrassment, and Alex stared at her in disbelief.

"You broke into the Registry Office?"

Shaz shrugged, "not really, Ma'am... he let me in if you think about it... I just had to pick a couple of locks to get in the filing cabinets, and that was it... besides, I checked out her real name-" her voice turned defensive as she pointed to the slip of paper in Gene's hand, "- and she's got two previous convictions for assault, theft and resisting arrest."

Alex glanced at Gene, half-hoping he would reprimand Shaz for behaving with such folly, but realising the moment she looked at him that he was impressed, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead, arms crossed, showing perfectly well that he was listening. Alex said nothing, fighting with her belief in ethics and her own need for justice in this case; no, it wasn't entirely ethical stealing records from the Registry Office – after all, people who changed their names often had perfectly good reason to do so- but she, too, was impressed with Shaz's findings, and the fact that they at least had a basis for speculation now somewhat loosened the tight knot that had formed in her chest whenever she allowed herself to dwell on the failing case.

"Good work, Granger," Gene said, voice almost tight as he dismissed the young WPC. Alex looked at him carefully, attempting to decipher exactly what his thoughts were – he was obviously impressed, but she could never understand why he wouldn't elaborate on his opinions, instead of delivering a 'good work, Granger' as casually as though she'd simply made him a nice cup of tea. The moment Shaz had closed the door behind her, she turned to him with arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Are you ever complimentary?" She asked, expression full of annoyance, the feminist in her putting his lack of elaboration down to prehistoric male views on masculinity and rising up to fight against it.

Gene blinked, looking at her for several moments before putting the piece of paper in his hand onto his desk, placing a hand on her waist and rubbing gentle circles in the skin of her hip before murmuring huskily, "I compliment you all the time, Bolly."

Alex rolled her eyes, neither responding to, nor pulling away from, his touch. "Except when someone's giving you a good seeing to, Gene; Shaz did a great job and all you said was-"

"At least I said _something_, Bols," Gene interrupted, dropping his hand from her hip and bringing it down to rest on his leg, "instead of treating her like a bloody crime suspect! What d'you call that bloody inquisition about where she got it from, anyway?"

"It wasn't an inquisition, Gene, but evidence like that won't stand up in court- it was obtained illegally, meaning that it's void and we-"

"So we don't tell the bloody courts we broke in!" Gene said firmly, standing up and grabbing his coat. "If we arrest her, it'll be for murder, not changing her sodding name! You wanted a lead, Bols? Well you've got one, so get off your high horse and start doing something about it."

She looked at him for several moments, watching as he straightened his tie and pulled his coat around his shoulders. "Where are you going?"

He sighed, "Just do some work, Bolly; I'll talk to you later." He made to leave, but on catching her hurt expression at his apparent brush off he stopped, hesitating only briefly before he stepped forward, cupping her face subconsciously before realizing that the shutters were still open, and that the rest of the team could easily see in if they glanced round. Seeing the nervous look on her face, feeling a slight pang in his chest at the almost fearful way in which her eyes glanced at the open window, he dropped his hand to her waist, perching on his desk directly in front of her, fingers slipping over the soft, smooth skin beneath her blouse as he spoke, noting the way her face changed from scared to annoyed. "Don't do that," he said softly.

"Do what?" She asked, turning her head away to glance back towards the team again. He sighed, widening the gap between his legs and tugging her gently closer to him. Alex looked at him in shock, pushing back ever so slightly.

"Gene, people might see us!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm a big bloke, Bolly. 's long as you stay there, nobody's gunna see anything." He slipped his hand slightly higher, meeting her gaze as he murmured, "stop looking so sulky; doesn't suit you."

"Thought you had a meeting?" She said sweetly, pulling away completely and leaning back against the filing cabinets with a smug look. Gene frowned.

"And I thought you had the decorators in last week – how come you're looking like such a sulky cow?" He crossed his legs and arms, looking at her expectantly. When she didn't reply, he sighed. "Fine, I'm going. Do some work, Drake. I'll be back in an hour."

He left without another word, and Alex flinched in disappointment. They had argued before, of course they had. They'd disagreed over team members and disputed point after point on case after case and yelled blue-bloody-murder at one another, yet this was different. He hadn't been angry, or aggressive or even argumentative-he just seemed distant, as though he was hiding something, something of importance... She couldn't even begin to fathom it – for a few moments, she imagined that he was with another woman, before pushing the idea aside as she realized that in three months they had hardly been apart for more than an hour.

She felt cold, and, even though she knew that she shouldn't, she felt jealous, as though the closeness she had developed with Gene over the last months was false, that even if they were sharing a bed he didn't really need her... and then suddenly she was shaking the idea off, telling herself she was being stupid; he was still his own person, after all, and he was within his own rights to have secrets...

Just because they were sleeping together didn't mean she had to know every tiny detail about his life, she resolved. So she told herself to stop, to get back to work and organise the team so that when Gene returned she could show her own independence, release that seemingly dormant creature which had burrowed into her stomach in the stead of that heady desire for Gene's companionship... but she couldn't help herself.

An hour passed, and she took to checking the clock every few minutes, glancing to the door and expecting him to burst through at any moment, but it wasn't until five that Gene returned, three hours after he left. He made a beeline for his office, barely glancing at anyone as he went, locking himself in and instantly picking up the phone. Feeling utterly dejected, Alex stood up and headed into the canteen, making herself a black coffee with sugar. It was wrong, she told herself; he wasn't a pet to be kept at her heels, and he was perfectly free to do whatever he wished with his time... she just wished he had shared whatever it was with her, rather than brushing her off for whatever 'meeting' he had to go to. She aggressively slammed about the kitchen, making herself a coffee with deliberately exaggerated force, hoping to release some of the unreasonable anger in her stomach.

She sat with her legs crossed, hands cupped around the warm coffee mug as she drifted between dejectedness as she thought about his afternoon evasion and into daydreaming about the intimacy of their breakfast that morning, where they had curled up together on the sofa, feeding each other small titbits of food...

It was only when she heard the soft click of his boots on the floor that she looked up, seeing him leant against the door frame, still wearing his overcoat draped loosely about his shoulders, tie dangling halfway down his chest, looking completely shattered, but pleased. Alex sat there, saying nothing and waiting for him to make a move, to speak first, or to reach out and touch her... He remained still, looking at her with a soft expression that melted her stomach, despite the annoyance still nagging at her innards.

"How was the meeting?" She asked, sipping her coffee in what she hoped was a casual manner. Gene slid the chair next to her from under the table, straddling it somewhat uncharacteristically so as to rest his arms and chin on the backrest, eyes warm and smiling, causing the simmering joy in her stomach to overflow, frustration slipping away as she tilted her head to the side, resting her chin on one hand.

"It was good," Gene said, eyes not leaving hers, mouth tugging into a small smile. Alex was struck by the sight of his almost childlike expression, the open happiness, the lack of worry, the casual relaxation that she rarely saw on his face, and she had to stop another smile teasing across her own lips.

Nodding, Alex asked nonchalantly, "you took longer than I expected... where did you get to?" She ran her fingers around the rim of her mug, tearing her gaze from his and tapping her toe lightly. She heard Gene's snort of amusement, felt his fingers close around her wrist as he pulled her hand into his, and she looked around to see him smiling in something akin to endearment.

"Bloke's gotta have some secrets, Bolly," he grinned, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. Her eyes narrowed and he sighed, standing up and dropping a light kiss to her forehead. "Get back to work, love- only half an hour left." He walked away, fingers lightly trailing over her jaw as he pulled back. Alex sighed, lifting her mug briefly to her lips before following him out.

---

Gene didn't broach the topic again, and by the time they entered the flat after eating two courses in Luigi's, Alex was practically bristling, even as she allowed Gene to escort her up the stairs. His arm rested lightly round her waist as he led her towards the sofa, fingers tracing tender patterns in her hip as they sat down, before he lightly pulled her into his lap. She drew back as his lips moved to her neck, but made no action to leave, still remaining seated on top of him, though she pushed back from his shoulders and met his eyes sternly when he repeated the attempt to kiss her. Gene sighed, falling back on the cushions and raising a questioning eyebrow. "What've I done now, Bols? You only ever stop me when yer on the blob or you want to piss me off, so what is it?"

Alex narrowed her eyes at him, debating the pros and cons of stringing the conversation along, before opting for the quick and simple route. "Where did you go this afternoon, Gene? It's not a difficult question, and you've been avoiding it all evening."

"It's not important, either," Gene answered levelly, eyes fixed on hers. When she didn't relent, he groaned, "Why are you so bothered, Bols? I went for a meeting; it's not like I was off shagging some prozzie in the back of the Quattro!"

Alex bit her lip, averting her eyes. She was overreacting again, she knew, but somehow she couldn't help it. "I just want to know, Gene."

He rolled his eyes, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, "you don't need to know everything, you know!" She looked at him, eyes soft, and he frowned. "What?"

She blushed slightly, and then said, in a soft, timid voice, "I don't like not knowing where you are, Gene... it scares me..." She turned her head away, but a moment later he was pulling her to his chest, large hand cupping the back of her head so she was looking at him. There was a smile in his eyes, though his lips remained customarily pouted.

"You daft tart," he said quietly. "What the bloody hell d'you thinks gunna happen to me?" His fingers combed through her hair as he tilted his face slightly, brushing his lips across her cheeks before moving her head to his shoulder, arms wrapping around her protectively as he chuckled lightly at her. She poked him hard in the chest.

"Don't laugh!" she murmured weakly. "I just... I'm not used to being away from you now... and I don't understand why you won't tell me where you were going." She knew she sounded pathetic, but the honest truth was that it was true; she was used to his bulky frame being within walking distance of her, or at least of having the knowledge of his whereabouts, and the idea of him withdrawing from her was painfully incomprehensible.

Gene sighed, turning his head to look at her. There was a moment of silence, in which he took in the gentle lines of her face, the softness of her hazel eyes, and the small fleck of bolognaise sauce that had managed to escape his notice on the corner of her mouth. He leant forward, flicking his tongue lightly over it before moving to nuzzle her ear, voice a low whisper as he muttered, "you really want to know?"

Alex nodded, closing her eyes as he slid his mouth over her face. "Yes..."

He kissed her earlobe, tongue flicking out to caress the soft skin before he murmured softly in her ear, his hands on her waist, "I sold my flat, Alex."

Alex twisted her head round so fast it cracked, causing both of them to flinch as she snapped her hand up to her neck. "You did what?" she asked, voice rising several notches and causing Gene to cringe, loosening his hold on her.

"I sold-"

"You sold your flat?" She interrupted, seeing him blink in surprise.

"Well, yeah, that's what I-" he was interrupted again, and with a sigh he fell back against the cushions, putting one arm across the back of her sofa as she began to rant.

"You _sold_ your flat? You just went out and_ sold_ your flat – where do you expect to live, Gene, you arse? That's your home!" She didn't know why she reacted so angrily; she knew they were as good as living together, but they'd never made it official, never called each other roommates or house mates or any of those things, and in that moment she was terrified of what such an admittance might entail. "You can't just go out and sell it on a whim! It doesn't work like that you stupid, stupid man! What in God's name were you thinking you complete imbecile! Why the _hell _would you sell your flat, Gene?"

She was flushed and red in the face, and for a moment Gene wasn't sure whether to be turned on or worried that she was going to hit him... When she began to rant again, he grabbed her face, pulling her mouth to his and kissing her with ferocity, until he eventually pulled back, replacing mouth with hand and glaring warningly at her. She didn't move to argue, and he slowly lowered his hand, expression relaxing slightly as he spoke, voice soft, tentative, almost nervous, even as his hand slid confidently up the outside of her thigh and to the soft curve of her arse.

"Sold it for you," he said quietly, tracing up her stomach and across the underside of her breasts as his hand moved up to her chin. "Hasn't been my home since you went an' phoned me at whatever time o' night it was..." he pressed a kiss to her lips, grinning sheepishly at the look of utter disbelief on her face. "You still mad?" He probed, eyebrows knitting together in a nervous frown.

Alex stared at him. "You've just gone and sold your flat, Gene, and didn't think to ask me about it! I think I've got the right to be a little peeved!"

He frowned, "why'd I need to ask you about it? I haven't slept there in three months, Bolly; None of my stuff is there, I've got no reason to keep it and the markets good for property... Jesus, Alex, I thought you might be pleased!" He stood up, dropping her heavily onto the sofa and moving to stand on the other side of the room, head resting lightly on the wall. Alex continued to stare at him as she lay there, now sprawled in a wholly unattractive position as she took him in, her eyes wide.

"Wouldn't it have been polite to ask, Gene? I assume you plan to live _here_? Only actually, this is my home, and if you want to be a permanent lodger then surely I ought to know about it?" She could feel trepidation rising in her stomach, nervous fear clasping at her innards. She shouldn't be angry – she wasn't, really... but what the hell was he thinking? Three months, and he wanted to drop his own, individual life, throw all his cards on the table and just skip along into her flat on a permanent basis? She didn't even know how long she'd be here, if she'd even wake up here the next day, and he was launching into co-habitation and property-sale.

She snapped out of her train of thought, shocked to see Gene hesitate, his hand flying nervously to the back of his neck, scratching and rubbing lightly as he averted his eyes, voice small. "Well... no, I was... it was gunna be a surprise, Bolly..."

"What? One day you just swan around and tell me you haven't got a bloody home to go to so why don't you just shack up here?" Her face was red and she was spitting, and Gene felt himself bristle.

"What the hell is your problem, Drake?" He snapped, pushing off the wall angrily. "It doesn't matter whether I own somewhere else or not, because I don't bloody live there! I hadn't been there in a month until last week, and it never bothered you then! Why are you so bloody averse to living with me, anyway? You just waiting until the shags run dry so you can shove me out, is that it?" His fists were clenched, his jaw tight, and his eyes were dark with anger. Alex leapt up, meeting his angry shouts with her own, arms flailing in rage.

"Is that what you think of me, Gene? Some dirty little scrot who'll let you shag her for a couple of months? Is that it? Because you can get out right now if you think I'm-"

"If I thought you were a whore Alex, I wouldn't be asking to live with you." His voice was more level, and though his tone was clipped, his apparent calm stopped her in her tracks and she was staring at him again, only this time it wasn't disbelief so much as hope, and as Gene shoved his hands in his pocket, Alex found herself calming, too. She remained quiet, waiting for him to speak again, biding her time. Eventually, he met her eyes again, scratching his arm nervously as he spoke. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he started, "only I was gunna wait till the paperwork was all done so it was all sorted out..." He hesitated, before stepping towards her, standing inches from her body but not breaking the touch barrier. His breath brushed across her skin, though he remained still, voice soft and husky, "wanted to go someplace new, Bols; new house or flat or somethin... was gunna ask you to move in once I sorted it out, show you I mean it..." His voice dripped with vulnerability, and in that moment Alex felt guilt rise in her stomach, stepping closer so that her chest pressed to his, hand cupping his cheek as she met his eyes.

"I'm sorry... I didn't... I was just nervous, Gene."

He frowned, "bout what? Nothing to be nervous about at the moment..." he tilted her chin up, pressing a light kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Won't people ask questions if we buy a house together?" Alex murmured, closing her eyes as he moved to kiss the bridge of her nose, then moved to her forehead.

"Don't care," he said gruffly, tangling his fingers in her hair and gently flicking his tongue across her skin. "They 'ave to find out sometime, Bols," he murmured, "may as well be now..." He brought his lips to her mouth, gently sucking her upper lip between his. "Wanna be with you... properly..." he pulled back, nose resting against hers, eyes locked as he whispered to her, "Move in with me, Alex."

She kissed him softly, wrapping her arms around his neck and easing her mouth over his. "Ok," she answered, closing her eyes to the tender embrace of him, allowing him to scoop her up into his arms, his mouth not leaving hers as he carried her through to the bedroom, stumbling only once over a pair of shoes, smiling into her mouth as she giggled at him.

As he laid her down on the blue silk sheets of the bed – their bed, he thought to himself - his hands worked softly at the buttons of her blouse, popping them one after the other as his mouth moved gently with hers. "Are you nervous now?" He asked softly, pushing the fabric aside reverently before pulling his mouth from hers, trailing lips over chest and stomach teasingly. Alex sighed softly, shaking her head, before realizing he wasn't looking at her and forcing words from her throat.

"Not nervous," she whispered, "not now..."

"Were you before?" He reached for her boots, unfastening them and dropping both they and the socks to the floor. He dropped a soft kiss to the hollow of her left ankle before returning to her mouth, tongue tangling with hers, "were you scared?"

"Yes," she admitted softly, stroking his hair lightly as he pulled back, blue eyes meeting hers, full of assuring warmth and desire.

"Why, Alex?" He whispered, kissing her neck softly. "Don't want you to be scared of me..."

"Not scared of you," she spoke quietly, pushing her hips up into his, "scared you'd get bored of me if we got serious..."

His fingers reached her fly, lowering it slowly, slipping the button away before sliding his hands beneath the denim, easing it down her legs and dropping kisses to her skin as he went. "Couldn't get bored of you, Bolly," he said, dropping the jeans aside as he pressed his open mouth to her thigh. "Not when you make me feel like this..."

Alex let out a soft moan, her lips parting in an 'o' as Gene kissed up to the fabric of her bra, fingers reaching behind her to unclasp it before he tugged it gently with his teeth, sliding it from her arms.

"Are we serious, Alex?" He murmured, casting the garment aside, for some reason relishing the intimacy of her first name, now more than ever before, knowing it was a silent barrier they'd never given thought to; at moments like this, when they were trembling on the edge of a precipice in their relationship, it felt right to address her as such, with plain, open honesty.

"Yes," Alex answered softly, whimpering as he placed a gentle kiss to each taut nipple, before moving to her mouth again, laying his fully clothed body over her almost completely naked one.

He nodded slowly. "Good," he murmured, placing his mouth over hers and kissing her with tender passion. They lay still for a few minutes, arms around one another as their mouths teased and tasted, until Gene broke away to rest his forehead against hers, breathing slightly heavy. His voice was soft and yet gruff, and the depth of honesty made Alex's heart tighten, her breath hitching as he spoke. "Always been serious, Alex," he said, finding her hands and entwining both sets of fingers with his own. "Never been just a shag... not since you got us stuck in that bloody vault!" He kissed her with a renewed level of passion, his mouth harder against hers as he sucked and nipped and licked at her, somehow still gentle, even though she was finding it difficult to breathe from the intensity of it all.

"Why the vault?" She asked when he pulled away, his fingers now reaching for the knickers and tugging them from her body. "Why then?"

He didn't answer straight away, treasuring the moment of uncovering her completely, watching her for a moment before bending forwards to press a light kiss to her folds, then whispering, "I just knew," he murmured, flicking his tongue out to tease her clit, "knew if I was gunna die holding onto anyone, wanted it to be you..."

At that Alex whimpered, tugging at his shirt and attempting to pull him up the bed. He obeyed her directions, moving to help her as she began to undress him, sliding first his shirt and then his trousers from his body. Once they were both completely naked, breath mingling hotly in the cool of the room, Alex cupped Gene's cheek, tenderly caressing his skin before she spoke. "Show me how serious you are, Gene," she whispered. "Make love to me..."

She expected him to snort, call her a pansy ponce and laugh at her; instead, he cupped her face in both hands, tenderly kissing her before he replied. "Can't," he whispered softly, "you know I don't do love, Alex." He kissed her again, mouth soft and warm against hers, "I do this... you and me..." he murmured, brushing lips once more, a mere caress, but one that sent shivers down her spine. "I need you..." His mouth caressed the pulse at the side of her neck briefly, before he began speaking into the lightly perfumed skin, murmuring as he went, "not just for tonight... need you forever, Alex... but I won't do love."

"Then show me you need me," Alex whispered, turning her head towards him. Gene met her eyes, and then nodded.

"Yeah... ok..." There lips met in a passionate lock, and then they were lost, caught up in a dance of bodies, a tangle of sweaty limbs and a cacophony of pleasure that rocked their bodies and minds.

---

When Gene pulled out of her, he said nothing, simply rolling her onto her side so that his chest was pressed into her back, arms possessively around her, fingers of one hand toying idly with her nipple as he kissed along her shoulder blade and the back of her neck.

"Gene..." Alex yawned covering his hand with hers and entwining their fingers.

His voice was muffled, mouth still brushing over her skin, "Yeah?"

She turned her head slightly so that she could see his face, taking in his profile, the closed eyes and the relaxed expression. She smiled. "I like it when you call me Alex..."

Gene cracked his eyes open, lifting his head up and brushing his lips over her ear, "you don't like Bolly-knickers?" he teased, hand trailing down her side and hip.

Alex smiled, "I don't mind it at all," she said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice, "in fact, it's endearing in a way, although the fact you associate me with champagne because I'm posh did used to rankle a little."

She felt his grin on the back of her neck as he kissed her once again, pushing her hair aside, "don't worry," he said, "I reckon if we keep shagging like this there'll be nothing left of your posh-knickers anyway."

"The way you tear them off, I'm surprised I still have any left at all!"

He laughed, pulling her tight into him. "Could just stop wearing 'em, if you fancied it?"

Alex rolled her eyes, twisting round to look at him and raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever worn jeans with no knickers, Gene?"

"I've not indulged in lingerie in many years, Bolly," he said, voice mellow and serious, though his face cracked in two at her raised eyebrow, eliciting a small snort of amusement from him.

She laughed, "oh you know what I mean – trust me, you're better with me wearing them. Otherwise the denim will chafe and you'll have to wait several days before I even let you get near to me with that-" Gene kissed her into silence, then pulled back.

"Keep yer knickers then," he said quickly, cringing slightly, "but if you wear a dress, I'll rip them skimpy things off you before you get out the door!"

Alex smiled, settling down against him and kissing his chest. "Deal."

There was a long silence, before Gene leant to nuzzle at her neck, his voice quiet. "I like calling you Alex, too..."

She met his eyes, smile wide, "will you do it more often?"

He cupped her face, touching his nose to hers, "yeah, I will... 's long as the team ain't around."

"We will tell them soon, won't we?" Alex asked worriedly, pulling back ever so slightly. Gene nodded.

"Yeah, we will... soon... but at work it's still 'Bolly' and 'Guv'..." He kissed her gently, "when we get home, you can call me anything you like."

----

It was dark; the moonlight was creeping in through the crack in the curtain, highlighting Gene's face as he lay there, showing every line and wrinkle while he slept on. Alex's hand rested lightly over his chest, feeling the gentle thump of his heart beneath her fingers, lip quirking ever so slightly at the soft rhythm.

The confusion of the day had lifted now, and her heart clenched with guilt at the pain her own lack of faith had caused the man sleeping beside her. It still baffled her that she had reacted so rashly, so out of character... She wanted things to be serious between them, but the idea of publicly announcing her relationship with Gene Hunt had seemed tantamount to putting a noose around their necks and jumping willingly from the foot support. It had seemed irrational, she thought, to sell his home and move in with her without so much as a word, and yet, now she had dwelt on it, had heard his feelings, his opinion, his honesty, she realized that he was trying for her, trying to be committed... And for some reason, she knew he hadn't done this sort of thing often, if at all – he'd been married, yes, but it didn't mean they'd co-habited beforehand...

But looking at him, feeling him there with her, living and breathing, made her realize that it wasn't that she was worried about; she knew that every moment she spent with Gene meant a harder time getting home, that every second she spent thinking about him instead of Molly was distracting her from the task at hand...

But she had tried to get home, so many times, and nothing had worked, nothing had helped... And now here she lay, with a man who made her happier than any other ever had, who made her feel alive, safe and comfortable whenever she saw him. Every moment she spent in love with Gene was another away from her precious daughter, and yet she couldn't tear herself away from him. The links to her own world had long since ceased to bleed through to her television, all lost to whatever abyss of time she was caught up in, and it was almost as though someone wanted her to give up, to stop fighting and just stay...

That was the real problem, she thought. Moving in with Gene meant accepting the life she had in this time, in eighty-two, where Molly wasn't even born yet; because moving in was commitment, and commitment meant sticking around, being there for one another... And the truth was, she wanted that commitment, just as much as she wanted to look after her daughter.

Sam had described Gene Hunt as a cancer on his tapes, eating away at his brain and forcing him deeper into his own imagination, and yet, somehow, it made no sense; Gene was one of the most humane people in existence, despite his flaws, his political incorrectness and his complete disregard for the rules. She couldn't have imagined him.

She reached out, caressing a wayward lock of hair from his forehead and pressing her lips tenderly to his temple, once again questioning how she could ever have believed him to be a fabrication; no amount of imaginings would develop that smell, the earthy scent of skin mingled with his spicy soap, the underlying smell of alcohol and cigarettes that seemed to permeate his whole being, and then an extra hint of something, a small, subtle, tangible scent that set the whole thing off and made her sigh with soft contentment... And whatever he was in this strange dystopia she had landed in, she knew, more than anything, that the emotion she felt for him was irrevocable, ingrained so deep in her system that she wasn't sure she could ever get rid of it, even if she wanted to, even if she woke up tomorrow in 2008 with Molly at her side.

"I love you, Gene," she whispered, voice soft, honest, and, despite knowing he was asleep, nervous. She pressed her lips lightly to his, feeling him stir into consciousness as she did so, his arms tightening around her as he gently pulled her closer until her face nestled against his chest.

"Mmm," he groaned, "I'm tired...go to sleep, Alex..." She smiled, kissing his shoulder gently as his hand slid familiarly down to rest on her rear. "Nice arse..." he said sleepily, "like it... s'nice..." He squeezed her rump gently before readjusting his position on his pillow, squashing his nose up slightly as he fell back into sleep, snoring lightly.

Alex felt tears pricking at her eyes, even as the smile of contentment spread over her face. "Oh Gene," she said softly, resting her head on his chest closing her eyes lightly as his heart beat out a gentle rhythm of reassurance beneath her ear, the ultimate sign of life...

But though the noise was warming to her heart, she could feel a lump in her throat as she longed also for another heartbeat- a faster one, one she had first felt in a far-off hospital, where she had pressed her two forefingers to the bare skin of her daughter's chest during the first minutes of her life... She closed her eyes briefly, whispering sadly to Gene's sleeping form, "I wish you could have met Molly..." Tears trickled down her cheek, falling onto Gene's bare skin as she finally allowed herself to grieve for the daughter she feared she might never see again. And even as he slept, oblivious to her pain as he snored softly on, Gene's presence kept her grounded, his warm breath on her neck abating the ice-cold grief that tortured her soul, the touch of his hand on her skin a quiet reassurance in the horror of her loss.

----

**Thanks to Feline, as ever :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	20. I'm Game If You Are

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Erm... yeah... smut-warning hehe**

**---**

When Gene awoke the next morning, he didn't move, simply lying still with Alex's face pressed into his neck as her breath tickled over his bare skin. Part of him wished to wake her, to kiss her into consciousness and roll her gently onto her back, but the other part of him, the part that won out on this rare occasion of emotion ousting desire, was content to lie here, watching her sleep.

Her mouth was slightly open, small breathy noises leaving her throat with every rise and fall of her chest, and her neck was bare to him, the soft flesh open to his admiration in this moment as her hair fell onto the pillow behind her. A small smile tugged at his lips as her reached out a gentle finger, tracing downwards across her pulse, following the line of her shoulder before running softly down the length of her arm. Her skin was warm, silky beneath the roughened texture of his fingers, a perfect contradiction that made his heart skip a beat. His other arm was round her waist, hand resting possessively on the top of her thigh, fingers tenderly stroking the soft skin as his eyes rested on her sleeping form. Their bodies were aligned, one of her legs draped over his, her ankle hooked around his own in a silent declaration of ownership, and the only thought in his mind was how good she felt, how well she fit against his body...

Her hair tickled his face as he twisted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, momentarily stunned at his good fortune, at the realization that he was in fact going to be living with her, spending every moment of spare time in her presence... And while the thought should have terrified him and made him run for the hills, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was how it was meant to be, that they were where they both belonged; together.

Gene was struck again by the soft beauty of Alex's face, by the way her curls loosened slightly in sleep and stuck out in slight peaks, and the way she pressed her nose into his skin so that it squished slightly to the side. He brought his hand to her cheek, adoring the way her eyelids fluttered as she flitted into consciousness, smiling as her tongue peeked out from her lips to wet the slightly chapped skin.

"Stop watching me sleep," she murmured, burying her face further into his neck and breathing heavily. Gene blinked, momentarily embarrassed to have been caught so transfixed, before smiling again, pulling gently away from her, hand still cupped against her cheek. Alex moved to follow his neck, groaning at the loss of skin and searching for it once more, eyes still closed, but Gene held her head softly, eyes warm as he looked at her, his stomach churning delightedly as she groaned and made a face of distaste, keeping her eyes closed all the while.

Bringing his face within an inch of hers, Gene whispered quietly to her, his breath warm on her face. "Open your eyes, Alex," he murmured, tenderly tracing his thumb across her lower lip. She murmured something incongruent, before he repeated, in the same soft voice that set her belly quivering with warmth, "open your eyes..."

She did. Gene smiled, lip twitching up as he took in the red puffiness of her eyes, the slightly bloodshot tint that said she was nowhere near awake, and the lazy way in which her lids fluttered open. He felt a soft growl of possession rise in his throat, an unwarranted need to claim her as his own, to show every man alive that she was his... And beneath it, there lay also a warm current of delight that shot through to his very bones as he leant forwards, mouth a bare centimetre from hers as he whispered, "you're gorgeous," pressing their lips together in a soft caress, taking her mouth tenderly with his own as his tongue requested entry, his head tilting to the side as he moved to deepen his exploration. Alex reciprocated, the kiss gentle and loving, and when they drew apart her eyes fluttered open hazily once more, meeting his blue ones as he glanced slowly at her lips, then back at her eyes again.

"Say you'll live with me again, Alex," he said quietly, eyes soft as he spoke.

Alex nodded, slipping her hand to the back of his head and pulling his lips to hers in a chaste caress before whispering, "I'll live with you, Gene..."

He smiled, returning to her mouth with a soft murmur of "good."

----

Alex pleasantly surprised Gene by digging out the previous morning's newspaper and opening to the real estate section, just as they settled down for breakfast with two steaming mugs of coffee set on the table before them. She slipped into his lap, one arm around his shoulder, just as his own arm slid around her waist, pulling her gently closer as he lightly pressed a kiss to her neck. He let a brief smile touch his lips as the scent of his own shirt mingled with the gentle hint of perfume that had not completely abated from the night before, then looked up to her face.

"What do we want?" Alex asked after a few moments staring at the page in bemusement. Gene smirked, shrugging half-heartedly before replying.

"Dunno."

"House or flat?"

Another shrug. "Don't care, as long as you're in it." He gently nibbled at her chin, sighing contentedly as Alex twisted around, stealing a brief kiss before she pulled away.

"How many bedrooms?" Alex asked, hands resting on his shoulders.

"'Least two," Gene answered straight away, pulling her closer. Alex frowned, but didn't question him.

"Bathrooms?"

He grinned, "I'll share if the need arises; can cope with one."

"But you'd prefer two?"

Gene shrugged, "upstairs, downstairs... it's an extra room for me to shag you in, Alex." His eyes danced wickedly as she sighed, turning to the paper.

"So we want a house," she concluded, running her fingers down the page. She frowned briefly, "Gene, how much can we afford to spend?"

He snorted, "Like I bloody know. Just find a house, Alex; if you want it, you can have it, even if I have to sell me own bollucks."

Alex blinked, turning to him with a strange expression on her face, "you know, you're bordering on romantic with that comment."

"I'd hardly say skewering me knackers was 'romantic'!" His face was riddled with disdain at the thought and Alex laughed, leaning forwards to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"Oh I don't know," Alex smiled, tucking herself into his arms, head resting on his shoulder, "there's a lot to be said for owning your testes..."

Gene shuddered, cringing visibly, "how is it that you manage to make even me balls sound like a bloody science experiment?"

She shook her head, smiling slightly, "I was just saying that exclusive rights to your manhood shouldn't be shunned – I'd pay good money for such a reward in fact!" Her eyes were full of flirtation, and Gene could feel himself twitching into arousal.

"How much money?" He queried, nipping lightly at her ear lobe.

"Oh, hundreds..."

"Really?"

"Mmm...." she turned her head slightly, giving Gene greater access as his mouth slid down her neck, hand slipping beneath the low-buttoned shirt and cupping her breast, rolling the hardening nipple in his rough fingers. "Mmm... I might even pay thousands if you keep doing that..."

Gene smirked, "you like it?"

Alex nodded, "yes. You know I do..." He pulled his hand away, grinning wickedly.

"Find us a house, Alex; we'll never pick one if I keep shagging you senseless." He kissed her cheek, lightly lifting her into the neighbouring seat before standing, resting his arms on the wooden back of her chair, leaning over her shoulder and pointing at an advert. "What about that one?"

"Five bedrooms, a kitchen, an upstairs living room and three bathrooms?" She looked at him in disbelief. "Are you living in cloud cuckoo land, Gene? How could we afford that? And why on earth would we need five bedrooms?"

Gene shrugged, resting his head lightly on her shoulder and nuzzling her hair with his nose. "Dunno... see how many rooms we could do in a night?" he pushed away the momentary pang at the real reason for having such a large number of bedrooms, the guilty wish that had been nagging at him for weeks, and pressed his lips to the base of her neck.

Alex grinned, reaching behind her to trail a hand down the back of his leg softly. "It doesn't matter how many rooms we have Gene, we'll still be at it like rabbits."

He smiled, voice sinking to a soft growl as he spoke again, "promise?"

She nodded, "promise."

Gene slid his arm around her, trailing down her stomach as he whispered, "Glad to hear it."

---

They settled for three bedrooms in the end, and as Gene phoned prospective agents to arrange meetings, he couldn't keep the satisfied smirk from his face. Alex sat with her feet up at the other end of the sofa, regrettably watching the clock tick towards nine as she rested her head in Gene's lap, listening to his gruff voice as he haggled for an appointment that day, only once glaring at him as he threatened one agent for wasting police time. When he finally hung up at quarter to nine, he'd organised six consecutive appointments and called Viv to inform him they wouldn't be in until later. If he noticed the amused tint to Viv's voice as he acknowledged it, Gene didn't tell Alex.

"Are you sure it's completely ethical to leave work to buy a house?" Alex asked as they slid into the car and headed towards the first property. "Crime doesn't sleep!" Gene simply shrugged.

"Nor does sickness but Doctors do it," having turned around a corner he slipped one hand into hers, eyes still fixed on the road. "Bastard scum can wait for a couple of hours, Alex, and Ray can hold fort for a bit..." With a squeeze of her hand he added, "I wanna live with you- so why wait?"

---

The first house had looked pretty in the picture, but the moment they turned into the street, Alex felt her stomach plummet down to her toes. The street was dingy, vandalized, and strewn with litter, and though the house was a semi-attached with garage and garden, they barely spent ten minutes there before they were back in the car, thoroughly convinced that this was not the sort of thing they were looking for.

The second house was better, set in a slightly more civilised street, but though Alex liked it, Gene was apprehensive; there was no garden and only two decently sized bedrooms, and in the end he convinced her that he had caught the teenager next door in a cocaine bust last year, and he didn't fancy being glassed around the head in his sleep- Alex didn't bother to ask why the boy in question wasn't behind bars.

The third was awful, needing severe work indoors to restore two of the bedrooms and the staircase, and Gene's snort of derision was enough of an answer for the estate agent; he waved them off within five minutes.

When they turned into the fourth street, Gene was feeling downcast, but the moment they parked up, Alex's face split into a brilliant smile; the street was happy, welcoming, with several parents sat out on their front lawns playing with their toddlers in the summer heat. The semi-detached house was white, with large bay front windows and a pale wooden door set with frosted glass. As they stepped out of the car and greeted yet another estate agent, this one called Mr Green, Alex reached for Gene's hand, smiling up at him in blissful joy, and he could feel his lip twitch. He squeezed her hand lightly, and then pulled her into the circle of his arm, feeling her slide her now free hand into the back pocket of his jeans, caressing his buttocks with slender fingers. Leaning down as they followed Mr Green in, he growled softly in her ear, feeling his heart pound in anticipation as they stepped over the threshold, "keep doing that – it's good."

---

The hall was wide, with shiny wooden floorboards and warm red wallpaper neatly covering the wall, spreading up to the upstairs landing. A faux-chandelier glistened above their heads, sending a warm glow about the room, and Gene let out a low whistle, whilst Alex squealed excitedly. He knew Mr Green was talking to them, telling them about the house, but he wasn't listening as he pulled Alex to the left, twisting the door knob to the living room and letting them in.

It was sparsely furnished, and they knew from Mr Green's helpful addition that they wouldn't be keeping the furnishings were they to move in. The walls were as immaculately decorated as the hall, a combination of pale and dark blues that created a dreamlike feel as Alex sighed softly, pulling away from Gene and moving to stand in front of the bay windows, running her fingers lightly over the white window frame and smiling as though dazed. Gene leant against the door, arms crossed as he watched her, with Mr Green stood just behind and tapping his foot impatiently; Gene couldn't care less. The moment they'd passed through the door he'd thought this was the house for them, and now, stood watching Alex stand in the centre of the room, directly in front of the bay window, shafts of light highlighting her skin and causing her hair to glow almost golden, he knew it without a shadow of a doubt.

When she returned to him, her arms slipping around his waist in a tender embrace as she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, he couldn't have missed the near blissful look on her face, the glimmer of happiness in her eye. "You like it?" Gene asked, stroking her hair.

"I love it," she whispered.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" Mr Green asked, his voice tight, as though not used to being ignored. Gene grinned, and turned to follow him through the rest of the house.

---

There was a large kitchen, with a square wooden table, a large refrigerator, and pale beech-wood cabinets lining the walls. The downstairs toilet was small but well-kept, whilst the upstairs bathroom was large, with a walk-in shower and a large bathtub –"big enough for two", Gene muttered as they looked at it – as well as an on-the-wall mirror which opened out into a toiletry cabinet.

There were two smaller bedrooms, and even as they entered them, Alex began nattering about transforming one into a study and the other into a guest room. Gene snorted, pulling her away from the lilac coloured room the moment she began talking about throw pillows and writing bureaus.

"You ain't having bloody throw pillows!" He told her with a growl, steering her into the master bedroom and silencing her protests by lightly pressing his mouth to hers, just as Mr Green showed them in.

It was spacious, with a large wardrobe situated directly in the centre, a chest of drawers on either side. The space for the bed was empty, but Gene could practically see the cogs whirring in Alex's head as she envisioned it before them. There was a large window across the room, and Gene let her lead him gently towards it, looking out to the small garden at the back of the house, which was pre-empted by a small patio, which currently played house to rusting garden furniture that looked like it might break at a single touch. Alex was grinning from ear to ear, wrapping her hands around his bicep and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sold, Gene," she whispered, smiling up at him with glistening eyes.

He pulled her into his arms, hiding his own smile as he lifted her up and growled in her ear; "To who? I'll kill the bastard!"

---

They didn't bother with the fourth and fifth houses; they wanted it. Two weeks later, once the contract had been drawn up and checked over by a lawyer, they signed for the house, Gene placing a sizeable deposit on their new home, ignoring Alex's constant stream of questions as to whether or not they could afford it and signing the contract before she could argue her point.

"You can move in a few weeks," Mr Green said, shaking both of their hands, "we're touching up the plumbing at the moment, but once it's done, the place is yours."

He could practically feel Alex's excitement as they left, and the moment they reached the car she turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and taking his lips in a smouldering kiss, pressing her body so close to his that they were practically melded together. The second they parted she met his eyes, her own hazel orbs filled with joy and excitement that glistened in the afternoon sun. "Thank you," she whispered softly. Gene nodded slowly, pulling her mouth to his again before replying.

"You can thank me properly later," he murmured, "we best get back to work."

---

After hours, sat in the corner of Luigi's with a bottle of house red on the table between them, Alex reached across to hold Gene's hand on top of the wooden surface. He squeezed gently, feeling his hands clam up slightly as he sought her reassurance, waited for the inevitable outbreak of shock from the rest of the team; it didn't come. Half an hour later, and nobody had so much as glanced over at them, nobody had noticed Alex's leg tangled around his, nor that they were leaning in to speak to one another as though whispering secrets, hands still clasped together, with Gene's thumb teasing across the back of her hand. In fact, it wasn't until Alex was eating her pudding that anyone noticed anything at all out of the ordinary, but the moment was witnessed by nearly everyone once Chris had jabbed both Shaz and Ray in the ribs to watch.

She'd opted for cheesecake – her favourite-, and Luigi had surpassed himself, the creamy topping causing her mouth to water with every morsel. In her delight, she had skimmed the top of the pudding with her finger, forming a large lump on the very tip, and holding it out to Gene. He hadn't even hesitated, catching Alex's wrist in his left hand and pulling it closer to his mouth, eyes not leaving hers as he closed his lips around her digit, sucking and licking at it with deliberate tenderness. It was only when Chris let out a loud exclamation of 'why's the Guv licking DI Drake's fingers?' that Gene drew his mouth away, swiping his tongue discreetly along her skin as he did so.

"Your place or mine?" Gene asked, mouth twitching, loud enough for the others to hear. Alex grinned.

"Oh, I think mine – it's more convenient!" She stood up, still holding his hand and looking thoughtfully at her barely-touched cheesecake. As though reading her mind, Gene tugged on her hand, pulling her closer so that he could growl lightly and suggestively in her ear.

"Bring it with you!"

----

When they stumbled into the flat five minutes later, they were both laughing, the bowl of cheesecake held loosely in Alex's hand as they fell onto the sofa, giggling like teenagers as Alex curled into his shoulder, her laugh infectious, causing Gene's face to split, even as she lifted her fingers to his mouth again, once more covered in the cream-cheese topping. Even as he licked them clean, neither of them could stop laughing, and eventually he pulled the bowl from her grasp, sliding it onto the coffee table before drawing her up to lie on top of him, capturing her mouth to try and stave off the giggles rising in her throat; he failed.

It was only after several attempts of tangling his tongue with hers that she finally stopped laughing and responded, her amusement turning to a moan of desire as the kiss deepened, his hand holding the back of her head, bringing her as close as possible. Her hands slid down his chest, grasping handfuls of shirt as she responded to his attentions with fervour. When his hand slid beneath her top, caressing the bare skin of her back, however, she pulled her mouth away, grinning at the confused frown that settled onto Gene's face.

"Let's play a game," she whispered seductively before he could protest, nipping lightly on his lower lip.

Gene looked at her suspiciously, "what kind of game?"

Eyes dancing, Alex pulled back, sitting on her heels as she spoke. "For every question you answer, I'll take off one item of clothing... and vice versa." Gene shifted his hips slightly, the bulge in his trousers painfully prominent, though he remained intrigued as she tossed her boots aside and ran her foot over his thigh suggestively. "Are you game, Gene?"

He nodded, sitting up slightly and draping one arm over the back of the sofa. "Yeah... I'm game."

Alex smiled, resting her foot just to the left of the large lump in his trousers. "Alright then, Gene," she said, flexing her toes and watching with delight as his eyes rolled back into his head. "Tell me, what's your favourite ever position, with anyone?"

Gene scowled at her. "'ey? I thought it was gunna be a 'what's yer favourite colour' type of game?"

Smiling sweetly as she shook her head, Alex replied, "Answer the question, Gene."

He heaved a deep breath, and then sighed dejectedly, "doggy, I s'pose... But with you I'll do just about anything." His eyes danced, and he looked lustily at her shirt, watching, first in anticipation, then in horror, as she slid her hands teasingly down her chest and legs, rubbing over her ankle before pulling off one single sock and tossing it aside, resting her head back on the sofa and grinning at him. "My turn, Gene – what are you going to ask me?"

He looked down at her bare foot, grinding his jaw in frustration. "I told you my favourite shag in return for a sock?"

Alex nodded, still smirking wickedly. "My turn," she repeated, returning her foot to his thigh and tracing her toes lightly over him.

Gene looked her over in assessment, shifting again, before a small grin tugged at his lips. "Your first time – where was it and who with?"

Alex rolled her eyes, "I should've guessed – what is it with men and knowing who 'got in' first?"

"Answer the question, Alex," he said hotly, eyes dark as he watched her, enjoying the sight of her spread so comfortably out on the sofa, her legs stretching out endlessly, her breasts pointing upwards as she resting back on the sofa. His hand caught her foot, eyes never leaving her as she spoke, her head resting back on the cushions.

"His name was Matthew Hopkins... we were in his bedroom - I was seventeen." She smiled slightly, raising her gaze to Gene's just as his eyes darkened even more, a growl rising in his throat.

"Was he good?"

Alex smirked, "not your turn anymore – clothes off, Mr Hunt." Gene glowered, and then reached for his belt, tossing it aside and sitting back in his chair as Alex spoke again. "Belt isn't a piece of clothing, Gene."

"It's all you're getting!" He answered stubbornly, gently kneading her foot. "Next question, Alex?"

She grinned, sliding into his lap and trailing her fingers down his chest. "Before me, where was the filthiest place you had sex?"

Gene grinned, laughing softly. "Her parents' bedroom closet," he said straight away, smirking to himself and looking extremely proud.

Alex frowned, "that's not filthy, Gene – in fact, it's pretty tame when you-"

"Her parents were in the bed two metres away..." At her look of disgust, he shrugged, grinning smugly, "we'd been in there a while, Bolly- she couldn't keep her hands off me."

Alex cringed, "that's revolting!" she said, pulling her other sock off as she shook her head.

"Same question," Gene said, tugging her closer and trailing his fingers up her torso, cupping her breast lightly. "Filthiest place, Alex?"

She shifted, tilting her head back as his mouth pressed soft kisses to the warm flesh of her neck. "The men's toilets at a rock concert... with one of the bouncers."

Gene snorted, "Dirty bitch!"

"Well, at least his parents weren't in the room!" Alex snapped defensively, while Gene laughed.

"No, just a bunch of perverts havin' a piss and a wank," his teeth grazed her neck as he sat back, lifting a leg up and reaching around her to remove a snakeskin shoe, which he dropped onto the floor with a loud 'thud'. Alex smiled, pulling back to press her lips to his temple, then leaning to whisper in his ear.

"What's your filthiest, kinkiest, _dirtiest_ fantasy?" Her voice was sultry and heated, but Gene was hesitant, pulling away slightly, until she whispered softly, "tell me, Gene... I want to know."He felt the blood pound to his groin and pulled her quickly closer as he bit at her neck, hand tightening on her breast as she shifted, straddling him.

"You," he growled, pressing his hips up into hers, "dressed up in that prozzie outfit, with yer hands cuffed behind your back, bent over my car-" a soft groan escaped his lips as she ground down onto him, her hands entangling with his and holding them at her sides as she caught his lips, whispering against them.

"Tell me more," she whispered, sucking lightly at his tongue, lightly trailing her teeth over it and sending shivers down his spine.

Gene groaned, clenching his hands around hers tightly as he went on, eyes closed, hips grinding up to meet hers. "You're wet," he growls, "and you beg me..."

"Do you want me?" She whispered, feeling her arousal peaking, the heat between her legs nearly blazing.

A small whimper escaped Gene's throat as he thrust up against her, seeking the friction of her clothing as he gasped, "will you take more clothes off if I answer that?"

"Yes..." Alex breathed, tasting his lips with her tongue as she whispered yet again, "do you want me?"

His mouth fell to her neck and the v of her blouse, murmuring against her skin, breath hot as she continued to move against him. "Always want you... never stop... can't get enough..." His fingers came to her blouse, tearing it carelessly so that buttons popped in all directions. "Off," he grunted, throwing it away and snapping her bra open, lifting it from her arms before pressing her down into the sofa, mouth on her nipple, his voice muffled. "Who made you come first, Alex?"

She gasped, guiding his hand to her other breast and whimpering, "Me... myself... me..."

He groaned, unbuttoning his shirt only slightly before lifting it over his head, throwing it to the floor and pressing his bare chest to hers. "You're filthy," he whispered, kissing her fiercely, rolling her nipples in his fingers.

Alex moaned, arms round his back, biting at his lip before speaking again, breath heavy and laboured, "have you ever thought about someone else, Gene? When you're inside me- have you wished I was someone else?"

He shook his head, hands fumbling at her jeans as he grunted his reply, "Don't want anyone else... not the same... they're not you..." He lifted himself up, dragging her jeans from her body, returning to the welcome warmth of her mouth.

"You're still wearing too much..." Alex gasped against him.

"Ask me more questions then," he growled, fiercely nibbling at the side of her neck. "Come on Alex – what do you _really_ want to know?"

"Mmm... what's your favourite part on my body, Gene?" She wrapped her legs round his waist, pressing up into him with a wicked grin on her face.

He grunted, kissing her breasts softly. "Tits... fucking love yer tits..."

Alex was barely listening, tearing at his trousers, just as Gene kicked off his remaining shoe, helping her remove the offending garment before kissing her again. "Ask me another one..." His voice was gruff, laboured, and Alex writhed beneath him as the deep rumble of it played havoc on her body.

"Have you ever watched porn, Gene?" Her voice was barely above a whisper as he ground himself against her, the evidence of his arousal pressing firmly into her thigh as he groaned, fingers slipping under her knickers.

"Once," he gasped, tugging the underwear down from her body and kissing her fiercely.

"Did you like it?" She gasped.

"You're out of clothes," Gene growled, plunging two fingers into her.

Alex shook her head. "I don't care – did you like it?"

"Did I like watching some ponce shag a woman to within an inch of her life, knowing the best I could 'ope for was a quick toss off in the shower?" His fingers twisted slightly within her as he hissed, "no, Alex, I didn't like it!"

She moaned, trying desperately to stimulate her clit against his hand, but to no avail - there was a devilish look on his face as he moved his hand away from the sensitive bud of nerves, teasing and grinning as she whimpered for more. He leant forwards, mouth next to her ear, and spoke again. "Final question Alex, so answer honestly..." he pulled his fingers out of her body, gripping her hips with one hand, holding the back of her head with the other. "You can shag me in any one place- anywhere at all... where'd you pick?"

Alex groaned, pulling him to her in desperation and trying to no avail to capture his mouth. "I don't know..." she gasped, "I don't know... anywhere..."

"Think about it Alex," Gene growled, biting down on her nipple. "One place – one, _filthy_, dirty little fantasy from the back of your twisted little mind... where are we?"

She gasped, rubbing against the fabric of his boxers and trying her best to stimulate friction, to relieve the aching desire currently clenching in her stomach. "Library – my old school library... in the crime section..."

Gene stopped, looking up at her in disbelief, seeing her face flushed with desire and feeling himself twitch with arousal. "You bloody minx," he growled, returning to nip at her neck while he rid himself of his boxers, gripping her waist with both hands. "Turn over," he groaned, leaning back on his ankles, not waiting for her to respond before he flipped her over onto hands and knees himself, pressing her down so she was leant over the arm.

"Are you wearing the uniform?" He growled, pushing her legs apart and guiding himself into her, quick and strong. He thrust deep, savouring the gasp of pleasure that left Alex's lips as he did so.

"Yes," she moaned, voice laboured, "always have to wear your uniform in the library- even after hours... oh God..." Gene reached round, squeezing at her breasts, his large hands cupping them perfectly. His eyes were closed, treasuring the heat of her body beneath his, the sound of her heavy breathing and the lustful way in which she pushed her hips back to meet each of his thrusts in turn.

"Do you call me Sir, Alex?" he growled, bringing one hand up to tug her head back, clamping his mouth down on her neck.

"Yes!" She barely managed to speak the word, the breath sucked from her lungs as pleasure wracked the whole of her being. Gene's thrusts grew faster, hold tightening on her hair as he continued to speak in her ear.

"You're a filthy little schoolgirl, Miss Drake," he hissed, "naughty, naughty girl..." He tugged her back, ignoring the slight whimper of pain as he caught her mouth in an impassioned kiss that shook them both. "Tell me," he ordered softly, "tell me how filthy you really are!"

Alex was practically speechless, nearly sobbing with the magnitude of her need, the desire that shot through her body, rendering her barely capable of thought. "I'm filthy..." she whispered. "Filthy..."

"Louder!" Gene growled, hips blurring into hers as their bodies moved together. "Say it -'I'm a filthy little schoolgirl,'" his voice was low and dangerous, hands tight on her body as he repeated, "say it!"

"I'm a filthy little schoolgirl!" Alex whimpered, body going rigid as Gene's fingers sought the throbbing pulse between her legs, twisting and pinching as she went into tremors of violent orgasm, drawing him over the edge with her as he let out a strangled groan, spilling himself inside her body.

"Too right you are," he murmured, kissing across her back he pulled her to him, lying them down with his length still buried inside her. It took twenty minutes for his heart to return to normal, and when it did he turned his head to speak gently in her ear. "Alex... where's your school?"

She laughed, wriggling against him, "about half an hour from here."

Gene pressed a soft kiss to the side of her temple, murmuring softly as he did so, "Can we go?"

Grinning, Alex shrugged. "Maybe someday," she yawned softly, running her foot over his, "if you lose the socks."

---

Alex was still tingling with delight as she sat at her desk the next morning, her whole body practically singing for joy every time she glanced towards Gene's office. She ignored the peculiar looks that both Ray and Chris were sending her way as a result of the previous evenings public display, just as she ignored the delighted smiles that Shaz kept beaming across the room. Instead, she worked her way through several reports, occasionally stopping to look up at Gene, whether he was playing darts, reading the paper, or drinking coffee. She was lifting her head to look at him just as he dropped the phone in its cradle, a blank look drawing across his face as he stood up, throwing his jacket around himself and slamming from the room. Alex watched as he crossed swiftly to her desk, his hand grabbing hers as he went, dragging her from her seat. Alex questioned it, attempting to tug her hand from his, but his grip was like iron and his face remained set, ignoring the looks of his team as he pulled her out. He led her out past the front desk and into the street, opening the Quattro with his spare hand.

"Get in." He said, pushing her in the back. Alex frowned at him inquisitively.

"Gene, what are you-?"

"Get in the car, Alex."

She crossed her arms, "no. Not until you explain what's going on and-"

He grabbed her, not hard, but enough that she couldn't move away, and pushed her into the car, slamming the door and walking to the driver's side without a word. The moment his door had closed, Alex turned on him.

"What the hell is going on? Don't _ever_ do that again- I am not about to be dragged around because you're in too much of a sulk to explain anything! Now tell me what the big emergency is, or I'm going!" Her voice was heated, but he ignored her, turning on the ignition and speeding away before she had the chance to say or do anything else.

"Gene, what are you playing at? Where are we going? Gene!" He ignored her, turning on the radio and fixing his eyes on the road, his un-gloved hands clenching on the wheel. It was that which made her stop, that caused her to look more closely at the lines on his face; they were worried, set deep in his skin as he gritted his jaw.

"Gene, I-"

"Shut up, Alex," he growled. "Just shut up and put your bloody belt on!"

----

**Huge thanks to Feline333 yet again :-)**

**Hope you all enjoyed it! **

**Mage of the Heart**


	21. Falling Inside The Black

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

His hands were clammy and sticky against the leather of the steering wheel, jaw tight as his foot pressed the pedal flat, speeding through streets at top speed, ignoring Alex's stream of questions and demands, cogs whirring in his brain as he went. He glanced across at her, seeing her fuming and defiant, her face red and arms crossed over her chest; for the first time since he'd known her, she'd neglected to put her seatbelt on, and for the first time, he desperately needed her to.

"Put that bloody belt on!" He snapped, swerving round a corner at speed before looking back at her. "For God's sake Alex, just put it on!"

"I thought seatbelts were for Nun's, Gene, not Police Officers?" Her voice was clipped and tight, and Gene ground his teeth angrily.

"Just put it on!" He growled, glancing from her, to the road, then back again.

Alex defiantly crossed one leg over the other and looked out the window briefly, ignoring the sensible part of her that said a seatbelt was a good idea, particularly when he was driving like a maniac. "I'm not putting it on unless you tell me what's going on, Gene. You can't just drag me out of work and shove me in a car and expect me to be ok with it!"

His shoulders slumped, his head turned away under pretence of looking out of the wing mirror before answering, voice weak and vulnerable. "Alex, please, just put your belt on... I'll explain everything soon, I just-" He gulped, looking back at her, eyes pleading. "Please, Alex, just put it on."

Alex hesitated, hand resting on the belt behind her back as she looked at him, then slowly drew it across herself, feeling fear rise up in her belly like a volcano as she clipped it in place and saw the relief on his face as he lay his head back on the headrest, slowing to a more civilised speed and turning corners with confidence, as though he knew exactly where he was going...

"Gene, please, what the hell is going on?" Her voice was desperate and soft, and his hand left the wheel to wrap around her own, his palm sweaty and cold. She clung to it, hold tightening even as he looked away from her, his Adams apple rising and falling with every nervous gulp.

"Just... give me half an hour. Wait 'till we're at the services or something... I just- just let me think for a bit." He drew his hand away, and said nothing else.

---

When they finally stopped, he'd smoked half a packet of cigarettes and was lighting up yet another one as he stepped out. As he pulled Alex by the hand, she cringed, turning her nose up at the pungent stench; she had grown accustomed to- even fond of- the smell of Gene's cigarettes, but this was something else. He was smoking incessantly, one after the other, flicking one cigarette aside only to pull out the next, and the overwhelming scent was making her sick. She wanted to snatch them from his grasp, throw them in the bin and tell him to stop, but his silence and his previous aggression quelled that desire, forcing her to remain quiet and allow herself to be steered towards a small cafe within the service station. He pushed her towards a table, letting her go as he headed for the counter and ordered two coffees and a packet of shortbread, which, on returning to her, he placed on the table and toyed with half-heartedly, whilst Alex sipped at her coffee in frustrated silence. She held out for fifteen minutes, watching him run his hands through his hair and crack his knuckles endlessly, before suddenly she snapped, reaching the end of her tether and barking out the question much more violently than she intended. "Are you going to tell me why the hell you've dragged me out of London?"

He looked at her, something akin to hopelessness passing over his features, before he sighed, pulling the plastic lid from his polystyrene cup, placing it down on the table with fingers that shook. Alex reached out, pulling the coffee away from him and closing her hand around his. Gene stared at her hand for several moments, and then his expression fell, eyes softening and shoulders slumping. Alex could hear his teeth grinding against each other as he averted his gaze, felt the grip he returned on her hand tightening to an almost painful level, and squeezed back, desperately seeking an answer.

"Gene, I'm just-"

He interrupted, the weakened expression of his face disappearing behind a mask of hardened disregard as he saw the concern on her face, wishing it would go away, his grip hard on her fingers. "I'm not a nancy poof, Alex, and I don't need yer pity! I didn't bring you here to get all fairy on you, so stop getting so worried!" He pushed her hand away, sitting back in his chair and looking at anything but her. Alex waited only a moment before standing up, picking her jacket up from the back of the chair as she did so.

"Fine. I'm getting a taxi back to London; if you decide to grow up anytime soon, I suppose I'll see you at home!" She moved to push her chair under the table and turn away, but a moment later Gene was beside her, arm securely around her waist and pinning her to him.

"Alex," he murmured, twisting her head to his, eyes desperate, "don't go."

For a split second, he expected her to shrug out of his hold, to run away and order a taxi and never come back; for a split second, she considered it. But in the brief moment where his eyes met hers, she saw his pain, his hurt, the rare moment of open vulnerability that made her heart constrict with pain, and a second later she was slipping her arms under his jacket, hands locking behind his back as she allowed herself to bury her nose in his shirt. He held her tight, arms crushing her into his chest as he inhaled the scent of her hair.

"What's wrong?" She murmured, tracing her hand up his back and feeling his chest rise and fall as he relaxed, his arms loosening ever so slightly as one hand tangled in her hair. "I can't help unless you tell me, Gene..."

He kissed her forehead, eyes closed tightly as he whispered back. "Can't help it anyway, Alex," he said quietly. "Just need you to..." he trailed off, clenching his jaw again and looking away when she tilted her head up to look at him.

"Need me to what, Gene?" She whispered, cupping his cheek and drawing him round to meet her eyes again. He gulped, stroking her face with trembling fingers as his voice rose in his throat, cracking and splintering as it emerged in a low, throaty whisper.

"Just don't leave me on my own, Alex." He pulled away from her, avoiding the million and one questions burning in the depths of her eyes and drawing her out of the cafe, leading her back to the car, his grip tightening on her hand as they went.

As they slid into their seats, Alex glanced over at him, seeing his torment written plainly across his face, wishing more than anything that he would share it with her, tell her what was wrong...

"Belt," he said shortly, turning the key in the ignition and looking at her expectantly. She stared for several moments, and then sighed, clipping the belt into place. The moment he heard it click, he drew away from the parking spot, eyes fixed on the road, hands still bare. He drummed on the wheel impatiently, and Alex sighed.

"Gene, please, just tell me where we're going?" Her voice was gentle, but he could sense the agitation and, with a soft sigh, jabbing the radio with one finger as he did so, Gene replied, voice abrupt and to the point.

"Manchester."

---

Alex said nothing else; she didn't dare ask. Something was eating away at him, and as the drive stretched on and she watched him grow more and more agitated, she developed theory after theory as to what it was, each as unlikely as the next. He was quiet and distant, but somehow that was bearable; he was often like that, breaking off into his own stream of thoughts that she knew she had no right to pry on... no, that wasn't what unnerved her.

What bothered her most, she realized, was his newfound obsession for her safety; every few minutes she would catch him glancing nervously across at her seatbelt, as though worried she might have disconnected it and fallen out of the door. On the two occasions that they stopped – once for petrol, once for a toilet break – he made sure that she'd reconnected it before he started the engine, once even tugging at the belt himself even after it was secured, as though to test it. He'd never cared before – in fact he'd gone so far as to say seatbelts were for wimps and nancys – but today it seemed the most important thing in the world, and her worry multiplied tenfold each time she looked at him.

---

He knew he should tell her. He knew she was worried, angry, agitated and pissed off, but he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud, as though speaking the words would make the whole situation more real... So instead, he did the only thing he knew how to do; he was brash, he was demanding, he was protective and he was a moody git, and for a while, he could displace that sickening worry in the pit of his stomach. As long as she kept her belt on, as long as she was safe and well, he knew he could be at peace with himself... at least until they got to Manchester.

---

Alex knew he was home a second after he did; something in the way he gripped the steering wheel, in the manner with which he swerved around corners and into side streets, changed dramatically. He knew these roads like the back of his hand, could have navigated them with his eyes closed, and for a brief moment, his face relaxed, his body loosening up as he cruised through his home town. The second the car stopped, he was rigid and agitated once again, staring at the terraced housing to their left with a look of complete trepidation and fear. Alex glanced nervously back and forth, noting the slight glisten of sweat on Gene's brow and upper lip, the way his tooth toyed with his lip as a child might before a music recital... Her hand reached out to cover his, feeling, yet again, the cold evidence of his anxiety and squeezing at him in a silent offering of support. Gene barely glanced at her before his eyes returned to the housing, staring for a moment longer before getting out of the car very suddenly, tearing his hand from Alex's as he slipped out, and slamming the door behind him. Alex flinched once again, knowing full well that Gene would never have dared slam the Quattro's door without good reason. A dog howled nearby as she got out of the car, and she was almost shocked to find Gene waiting for her, his hand outstretched, an intense look in his eyes as he awaited her response. She hesitated, scared of a spectre she neither knew, nor wanted to, before placing her hand in his, feeling his fingers wrap around her small hand, his strong arms tugging her closer, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and leading her towards a battered looking door with a number ten nailed to the middle.

---

The inside of the house was narrow, but clean, with old photographs hanging from the walls, covered in a thin sheen of dust, but still clearly visible. A small mirror was hanging from the wall, a large oval decorated with intricate carvings, with small notes blu-tacked to the mirror itself. A carpeted staircase lay to their right, but Gene pulled her past it, his strides long and familiar, as though he had tread these very steps many times. He drew her past an ajar wooden door leading onto a kitchen, past another wooden door that was shut fast, and towards the end of the hallway, to yet another plain door, this with peeling paintwork and chipped wood. He stopped in front of it, hand freezing an inch away from the handle, hovering hesitantly as he glanced at Alex. Still slightly bewildered, she nodded, standing on her tiptoes to lightly brush his cheek with her lips. He pulled back slightly, but as he did so his hand closed on the handle, opening the door and holding his breath.

The moment he entered, he dropped Alex's hand, walking over to the creaking double bed in the centre of the room and leaning down to cup one hand around the cheek of a pale, grey haired woman, whose breathing was ragged and pained.

"Yer daft cow," he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips, "what you gone and caught now, Mam?"

---

Alex stared, watching as Gene sat himself on his mother's bed, the brash facade gone, replaced by a soft nature that both chilled and warmed her. He sat with Maddie Hunt's hand clasped firmly between both of his, murmuring apologies and explanations in the voice that Alex had only ever heard in the gentle cocoon of post-coital bliss. He was gentle and tender, running his hand over Maddie's forehead in an assured movement, brushing locks of hair aside in an almost paternal gesture. Tears formed in her eyes, her heart tightening at the sight of him so open, showing a side to his personality that he had always kept hidden, locked away from prying eyes. She could hear his voice cracking as Maddie remained silent, wanted to reach out to him, hold his head to her chest and stroke his hair until he had chased the worry away, but something stopped her, and instead, she took to looking around the room, taking in every detail, thirsty for an insight into Gene's private world... There was little to note; a few bottles of medication, a sewing box that was covered in an inch of dust, and a single photograph, framed and lovingly placed on the vanity table. Alex was drawn to it, fingers tracing the simple frame before stilling, eyes resting on the image itself, which caused her to gasp quietly. The picture was plain enough, the sort of thing any mother might have in their bedroom, but it was the face of the youngest boy that caused her to stop, made tears spring to her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

A young, light-haired woman had her arms thrown around two young boys, one who looked to be in his early teens, whilst the other was roughly seven or eight. The picture was full of laughter, and Gene's face was unmistakeable; the eyes shone out with mischief, his floppy hair falling onto his forehead, and the smile on his lips open and warm. The lines that would form on his face in years to come had not yet hardened his features, but there was still no mistaking him. Her finger traced over the glass frame, smoothing down the face of Gene's childhood, before he was too hardened by his father's bullying. Her eyes fell on a large gash across the back of Gene's palm, and once again she brought her finger down to caress it, smiling sadly as she glanced again at his beaming smile; it was just like him, she thought, to ignore the pain in favour of something better... Skimming over the photo, she looked at his brother, Gene's opposite in every way. Whilst Gene was blonde, Stuart's hair was jet black, and while Gene was broad-shouldered even at the tender age of seven, Stuart was slighter of form, and yet despite it all, there was no mistaking their relation; their faces were practically identical, their smiles both slightly lopsided, but no less happy. Alex felt her lip quiver slightly, looking at the happy family before her, wondering how such a joyous group could be ripped apart by one single man, wondered where he was while this picture was taken...

An arm slid around her waist, a head resting on her shoulder, and Alex was alerted to Gene's presence once again, feeling his warm breath on her skin, his spare hand covering hers. "He was away," Gene said quietly, as though reading her mind; she didn't need to ask who 'he' was. "Told us 'e had a work meeting... he was probably shagging some other bird, but we buggered off to the park anyway." A small smirk tugged at his lips as he spoke, "Stu stole his old camera and got some bugger walking his dog to take it... gave it her for Mother's Day and got ten shades of shit knocked out of him for the trouble, but she's never took it down since." He kissed the tender skin behind her ear, feeling her fingers entwine themselves around his own. She lifted it up, her fingers tracing the ridge of a red scar that stretched across the back of his hand.

"How did you do this?" She asked, eyes sad, tears continuing to trickle down her cheeks unchecked, guilt rising in her chest as she realized that she should be the one offering comfort, not the other way round. Gene didn't seem to mind, and his lips followed the salty trails of her tears, kissing each droplet away with a tender caress of his lips against her skin.

"Broken glass," he murmured, "fell in it and got a huge bastard piece in me hand..." she felt his shrug as his arm tightened on her waist, holding her closer. "I'd done it a couple of days before that – needed stitches an' all." He glanced slightly towards his mother, sleeping heavily in the bed. A sad smile stretched across his lips and he pulled back slightly, leading Alex out of the bedroom and back along the hall, into the kitchen.

---

The table was scrubbed, but dusty, and it was clear that nobody had used it for several days. The look on Gene's face was one of annoyance, and she squeezed lightly at his hand, "Gene, maybe you should-"

"She hasn't been eating," he said, opening the cupboards and searching for something to eat. A few minutes later, he was pouring tinned pasta into a pan and pulling plates down from the cupboards. Alex stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, before moving to fill the kettle, setting it to boil and searching for cups, finding three chipped mugs in the cupboard and setting them down on the side, before walking back over to wrap her arms around his waist. He placed one arm around her, his hand stroking her shoulder, whilst the other stirred the pasta half-heartedly.

"You should have told me," Alex said eventually, hand rubbing his stomach gently in a reassuring gesture.

Gene sighed, resting his head on hers and squeezing her slightly harder against him. "Sorry," he said gruffly, eyes fixed on the pasta in the pan.

Alex hesitated, and then spoke again, voice quiet and gentle as she rested her head against his head. "Is she... will she get better?"

He shook his head, jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the wooden spoon in his hand. "She's old, she's ill, and she can't be arsed to fight it anymore..." he shrugged, lifting a single shell of pasta out on the spoon and holding it out for Alex to taste. She did so obediently, but quickly swallowed, shaking her head and cringing.

"That's still cold!" She complained, wiping her mouth. Gene managed a small smile, turning the heat up to full and dropping the spoon in the pan. His hand moved to her chin, tilting her face upwards and pressing a lingering kiss to her mouth, the first such action in what felt like forever.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he drew back.

"About the pasta?" Alex asked, still attempting to rid herself of the taste. "You should be- it's horrible."

He stroked her hair, shaking his head slowly before pulling her mouth briefly to his once more. "Not about the pasta..."

She met his eyes, knowing that was the most explanation she would get and nodding her head, softly reaching out to stroke his cheek. "It's ok," she murmured, hiding a sad smile as he leant into her touch, his eyes closed to the sensation of her hand on his face.

"It's not," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her wrist, "I should've told you... I jus' couldn't..." For a moment he was still, saying nothing, eyes closed as he breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume, and then suddenly he was clinging to her, arms enfolding her tight against his chest, his breath hard and heavy in her ear. His strong arms crushed her, making her breath come short as he buried his face in her curls, but she responded, wrapping her arms around him and allowing him to hold her, his whole posture reeking of desperation.

"Just don't leave me, Alex," he said softly, his mouth pressing hard against her temple, his breath shaking and unnerved. "I can't lose you, too."

"I'm here, Gene," she replied softly, pain shooting through her whole body as she heard his torment echoed through every word, "I'm here."

----

Despite Gene's best attempts to get her to eat something, Maddie remained asleep for the rest of the day, only managing a weary smile at him as he offered her the bowl of pasta before slipping back into slumber. Gene pulled up a chair beside his mother's bed and stayed there, keeping silent vigil, his large, rough hands holding onto her slender, smooth one as though it were a lifeline. For a while, Alex curled up in his lap, stroking away the lines of worry that etched themselves into his face every time his mother released a particularly harsh breath or cough. At around six, Gene reached into his pocket, pulling out several twenty pound notes and pressing them into her hand.

"Go get yerself some clothes," he muttered, "and some food..."

Alex nodded, sensing that, while practicality might well be a factor, he wanted to be alone. She slipped out of his lap and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, her finger trailing down his face. "Do you need anything?"

He shrugged, "A barrel of whiskey and a cigarette factory?" With a gentle squeeze of her hand and a small, sad smile, he added, "no, I'm fine... Take the car." In a moment, he'd dropped his keys into her hand, turning back to his mother without another word.

Alex moved to leave, and then said quietly, "I won't scratch it."

Gene looked back to her, a ghost of a smile forming as he nodded, "yeah... don't scratch it."

---

When Maddie woke up, Gene's first instinct was to drop her hand and go and find her something to eat, but the moment he moved to do so, her slender fingers tightened around his, and he obediently settled back into his chair, squeezing her hand lightly.

"Bout time you woke up, yer dozy cow!" Gene's voice was teasing, but under it all he sagged with relief, blissfully aware of the feel of her warm hand and the gentle pulse at her wrist.

She smiled at him, though it was shaky and sad, before croaking out a quiet, scolding reply, "that's no way to talk to your old Mam!"

He gave a light laugh, lifting himself to sit on the mattress, reminded in that instant of similar moments in childhood, when he knew his father was too far away to see him there. He remembered with a pang the day he had come in after vomiting as a result of a nightmare, curling up against her at the young age of five, listening to her soothing voice as he sobbed onto her shoulder, the acrid taste in his mouth violent and abrasive, his shaken sobs causing his whole body to shudder in grief...

"_He's gunna kill me_," he'd told her, clasping her hand tightly in his. "_He said I'm no good at anything..._"

"_He's not going to kill you, Genie_," she'd whispered, "_nobody's going to touch you when you're here..._" And he'd felt safer; he'd fallen asleep and slept soundly, his mother's hand clasped firmly in his own until dawn had broken and the light had slid in through the un-shuttered window.

To the day, his mother's bedroom remained the one constant source of solitude in his life; he never would have entered whilst his father slept there, but without him, when it was just the two of them and Stuart in the house, Maddie's bedroom was the safest place to be.

It was the same now- despite knowing full well that it might be the last time he sat here with her, there was still that glow of maternal warmth emanating from her as he leant to press a light kiss to her forehead, still that reassuring presence that drove away some of the demons of grief and worry which had been gnawing at his stomach all day.

She was smiling up at him, her eyes fluttering slightly as she said, "you look very handsome, Genie."

"Bloody hell, you must be ill," he muttered jokingly, squeezing her hand lightly in his own. "You look rough as a dogs arse though, Mam," he grinned down at her, noting how her lips turned up at the corners.

"How you ever managed to charm that young lady of yours is beyond me," Maddie murmured, eyes drooping as she yawned. "She's a pretty one though, I'll give you that..."

Gene stared, "Thought you were sleeping?"

She laughed, a rasping sound, but it was laced with amusement nonetheless. Her voice was weak, but she spoke smoothly enough, "I would have said hello sooner, but I didn't want to risk whatever culinary triumph you concocted; I haven't yet forgotten your burnt bean-baps."

Gene looked down, a small smile on his face as he changed the subject, "so you liked her, then?"

Maddie sighed, opening her eyes with effort and shaking her head slowly; for a moment, Gene thought she was going to say no. "It doesn't matter if I like her, Genie," she said softly. "You're the one who's looking to impregnate her!"

Gene scowled. "Mam, I-"

"You don't fool me, son," she said breathily, smiling as Gene's face flushed slightly, "even if she hasn't quite cottoned on yet." With a smile, she sank back onto her pillow, "make sure you hold onto her, Genie; she's making you happy- even a daft tart on her death-bed can see that!"

"You ain't a daft tart, Mam," he murmured quietly, "an' you ain't gunna cop it either, so-"

"Now stop that," Maddie said quietly, "I'm old, I'm sick, and I'm tired... It's more than my time, and well you know it!"

Gene searched for words, desperate to get his feelings across, to make his grief known...But he didn't know how to say it, and at that moment Alex returned, walking in and standing nervously at the bottom of the bed. It took Gene several moments before he could tear his eyes from his mother long enough to turn his head around, but when he did he felt the knot in his chest loosen, the sight of Alex a balm to the pain that was slowly threatening to split him in two. She walked forwards hesitantly, gingerly settling herself in front of him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Gene tugged her closer, his arm sneaking slowly around her waist and rejoicing at the reassuring warmth of her body, the familiar calming as his fingers flitted over her hips and waist.

"Mam, this is-"

"I know who it is," Maddie smiled tiredly, her breathing deepening.

Gene ground his teeth, then muttered, "this is me-"

"She knows who I am as well, you know!" Her loud exclamation was followed by a large coughing fit, during which Gene released Alex, his arms lifting Maddie into an upright position with ease, rubbing her back until it died away into a small splutter, and he lowered her again with a surprising gentleness.

"Daft cow," Gene murmured, twining his fingers around Alex's without taking his eyes away from Maddie's face, "that'll teach you to get all smarmy with me!"

His mother shushed him, raising a trembling hand to rub her forehead tiredly.

"You should get some sleep," Alex said softly, glancing at Gene's mother with concern. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water, maybe?"

Maddie smiled, "No, no, I'm fine..." there was a brief silence, in which the only sound was the ragged breaths tearing through her throat, before she said, almost embarrassed, "a cold flannel, perhaps?"

Alex smiled, tenderly kissing Gene's forehead as he looked at her gratefully, then heading out of the room, searching through the many bags she had brought back with her for a fresh flannel, then filling a tin bowl from the kitchen with cold water. When she returned to the bedroom, Gene was back in his chair, hand still holding onto Maddie's as her quivering snores filled the room. Alex walked over, placing the bowl down on the bedside table and soaking the flannel, folding and wringing it before gently brushing it across Maddie's forehead.

Gene watched, a sadness gripping him as he took the sight in; he'd brought her along for support, knowing he couldn't face losing his mother alone, but he hadn't expected her to settle into the role so calmly, mopping his mothers head as though she'd known her for years. The tender way in which she ran her fingers down Maddie's cheeks, the assured manner with which she daubed at the excess water made his heart ache bitterly, and he had to turn his eyes away, the hand that rested on his thigh clenching painfully as he attempted to displace the sour grief that threatened to consume him. It was only when Alex's cool hands cupped his own face that he turned to meet her gaze, feeling completely naked beneath the soft sympathy that shone from her eyes. Her fingers lingered on his cheek before she bent forwards, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and then pulling away. "Get some sleep, Gene," she whispered, "you won't do any good exhausting yourself with worry."

He nodded slowly, gaze resting on Maddie's sleeping face, the flannel resting lightly over her head causing him to frown, "what's wrong with her?"

Alex ran a hand through his hair, fingers trailing over his scalp and causing him to sigh slightly. "She's got a fever," she replied, watching as he grimaced, his Adam's apple rising and falling before he stood up, still holding Maddie's hand. He hesitated, and then glanced at Alex, his eyes pleading.

"Sit with her?" He asked quietly, reaching for her hand and placing it over his mothers. "And wake me if- if anything changes..." His voice trailed off, eyes resting on Maddie's face briefly, before returning to Alex.

Alex nodded, slipping her fingers around Maddie's whilst her spare hand came to rest on Gene's cheek. "I will," she whispered, "get some sleep."

Mutely, Gene nodded his assent, leaning down to kiss his mothers cheek almost nervously. When he turned back to Alex again, he pulled her towards him, pressing his lips to her temple, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the scent of her, trying his best to displace anything else. He lingered there for a few moments, filling his lungs with the very essence of her being, before pulling away and moving from the room.

When he reached the door, Alex spoke, her voice timid. "Gene?"

He turned, his hand on the wooden door frame as he looked at her with tired eyes, "yeah?"

There was another moment of hesitation, a brief few seconds where the words on her tongue resounded through her head like the executioners drum, but then she said them, they tumbled from her lips: "I love you." The words hung in the air for what felt an eternity, and for a minute she hoped that he hadn't heard them, prayed that he would ask her to repeat it and she could fabricate something else...

His blue eyes were unreadable, closed off and full of grief, but then he was nodding, the corner of his mouth rising slightly as he spoke before turning away, "Goodnight, Alex."

----

The hours crawled by and the clock ticked loudly in the corner. Alex could hear Maddie's breathing growing more uneven as she stirred into consciousness, hear the rasping breaths as she began to choke, and straight away she was on her feet, repeating Gene's earlier actions and holding his mother in a sitting position as she coughed. When the fit died down, and Maddie had pressed her hand lightly to Alex's wrist, she lay her back onto the pillows, nervously retrieving her hand and wondering vaguely if Gene's mother would disapprove and shirk her care, ask for her son instead... but the grip on her hand was returned, and as Maddie's breathing began to even out again she turned her head to Alex, a small smile on her lips.

"Thank you, Alex..." she coughed slightly, and then smiled again, nodding slowly. "He does love you," she said wisely. Alex blinked, meeting her eyes and finding herself incapable of speech. "Oh, I know he won't tell you, and he won't call it love..." Maddie's voice was sad, grating and weak. "But he does; it's in his eyes, y'see... his eyes give him away every time." She squeezed Alex's hand, as though offering consolation for some worldly wrong. "You will take care of him, won't you, Alex?" Her voice was weak, and Alex shifted the chair closer, nodding slowly.

"I will, yes," she whispered quietly, squeezing Maddie's hand in response.

"He's a good boy," Maddie murmured, a maternal smile of pride spreading over her face, "and he'll do right by you an' all..." She yawned, spluttering briefly before adding, in the same joking tone that Alex often heard from Gene, "all this dying is hard work you know- you'd think it'd be quicker, wouldn't you?" A small laugh echoed around the room, and Alex smiled as Maddie yawned yet again, before falling once more into sleep.

---

When Gene walked in later on, he looked completely dishevelled, his face tired and shirt crumpled, and Alex knew straight away that, if he had slept at all, it had been fitful. His hair was ruffled, and as he approached her she could see his nails bleeding as a result of incessant, nervous biting. He touched her shoulder lightly, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head.

"You should get some sleep too, Alex," he murmured, taking Maddie's hand in his own and breathing deeply. "Any change?"

Alex shook her head. "No. Nothing."

---

**Please don't kill me....**

**Thank you to Feline333 my lovely beta, as always :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	22. Whispers In The Dark

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Bit angsty this one, but I hope its ok!**

**---**

Gene felt the temperature of the room fall the moment Alex left, the cold clutches of grief and worry tearing at his innards as she left him alone, his hand holding tight onto his mothers. He'd half wanted Alex to stay with him, to curl up in his lap and fall asleep so he didn't need to be alone with his fears, but he knew she was as tired as he was, knew she needed her rest, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he needed to say goodbye alone.

So he sat, staring at his mother's face, memorising every small detail, his heart twisting at a thousand memories; he remembered the laugh in her eyes when he and Stuart had traipsed in, wearing their swimming trunks but covered in mud from the small stream in the local park. He thought about the day they had discovered Stuart's death, remembering the tears that trickled down her face and splashed to the floor as he held her hand. He remembered the beaming pride on her face when he had joined the force, remembered her standing on tiptoe to put her warm arms around his neck and press soft lips to his cheek. Childhood memories he thought had long been lost to the darkness suddenly emerged, breaking out from the thick fog of despair he always associated with his younger years, reminding him each time of those days when everything was right, normal, even happy... He leant forwards, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing them softly, staring at her sleeping face, feeling his heart splintering in his chest.

----

The door to the living room, which had been shut that afternoon, was now slightly ajar, and on entering, Alex saw a rumpled duvet, which was draped over the long sofa in the middle of the room. She walked over gratefully, sinking into the warm blanket and inhaling Gene's scent, her whole body flooding with relief. She doubted she could sleep, but she knew Gene really wanted to have a few hours alone with his mother, to say goodbye in whatever manner he needed to. She longed to be able to help him, to comfort him and tell him it would all be ok, but she knew better; she'd lost her parents, and she knew that nothing she said could possibly lighten the heavy grief that weighed on his back.

Her eyes were closed as she lay there, inhaling the scent of Gene's aftershave, his cigarette-smelling clothes and a small amount of sweat, as though he had wiped his clammy palms on the duvet as he lay there. She longed for his arms around her as she tried to sleep, couldn't remember the last time she had closed her eyes without him holding her against his chest... She felt cold and alone, even as she wrapped herself up in his scent, nose buried in the duvet, eyes scrunched up as she imagined his protective arms surrounding her, his soft voice in her ear...

Her heart physically ached as her mind drifted to thoughts of his pain, to the desperate manner with which he had pulled her from the station, and the way he had so flagrantly demanded her to be safe, uncharacteristically safety conscious as his grief consumed him; she hadn't realized before what he had been doing, couldn't have guessed that his worry had led him to a pinnacle of loneliness, that he needed her to stay just so that he felt that little bit more connected, more human...

Something cold and wet touched her forehead and she leapt up, eyes flying open. A small squeak of fear left her throat as her eyes fell on the large brown and black canine now sat before her, looking up at her with large, sorrowful eyes, large ears pricked back as though listening for something.

"Jesus," Alex gasped, leaping back against the sofa and tucking her legs firmly beneath her. "Where the hell did you come from?" Her eyes darted around the room, the dogs' gentle whine unnerving her, until her eyes fell on the large basket in the corner, draped in shadow. She swore softly, jumping as the dogs' nose gently nudged at her knee, before its chin came to rest heavily in her lap. Hands trembling, Alex reluctantly petted the soft fur, before pulling her hand away quickly. Large brown eyes looked up at her expectantly, and she dropped her hand again, running her fingers hesitantly over the long snout. The eyes closed briefly, before the dog yanked its head away, darting across the room and nudging at a tennis ball, before catching it in its mouth and running back to drop it in Alex's lap.

Her momentary fear of the animal was replaced by pity as she felt herself cave, noting the lonely look on the animals face and tossing the ball across the room lightly. A moment later, the dog returned, leaping up on the sofa and draping itself across Alex's legs, tail wagging slowly, as though that small display of playfulness had formed a lifelong bond. Still tentative, wary of the dogs' size and considerable weight, she ran her hands down the silky back, scratching lightly behind the ears as a soft growl of delight left the dogs' throat. Her fingers sought the collar which hung at the dogs' large neck, twisting it until the round tag was visible. In the half light it took several moments to read the single engraving of 'Fitz'. Alex smiled, the Latin lessons Evan had bestowed on her from a young age rising to the surface as she stroked the dogs head again.

"I suppose you're a boy then," Alex mused, "if your name means 'son'." Fitz butted his head against her hand as it stilled, settling more firmly across her, his whole body moving as his tail thumped in contentment. Shifting slightly to rest her head back on the sofa cushion, Alex closed her eyes, nervous fingers combing through Fitz's fur as she listened to the quiet of the house.

---

Gene had never in his life had to wait for the death of someone he cared about; Stu was dead when they found him, and the whole situation had been so surreal that it took him two weeks to really understand any of it. Sam's loss, too, was violent and sudden, and it had uprooted his life, ending his marriage and tearing him from the few remaining friends he had.

He, Chris and Ray had left, never really considering the next time they would come back, yet here he was, waiting by his mothers bedside for some black spectre to appear; it didn't.

The night drew on, cold, lonely and quiet, and all he wanted was to break it, to whisper in the dark and tell his mother exactly what she meant to him, what she had always meant, even if he had never bothered to tell her... He wanted to tell her, but he didn't know how. Words seemed to fail, even when he knew she was asleep, so deep in slumber that she probably wouldn't notice if a battalion of soldiers stormed through the front door.

The words he craved to voice caught in his throat, and the well of hopelessness deepened. He brought the chair closer, holding Maddie's hand that little bit tighter, trying to show through the touch of his hand what seemed to escape him verbally, knowing it would never be enough...

He wished there was a way to explain all that she was to him, to thank her for everything she'd ever done, but even though he knew the words, the three words that just _might _surmise his feelings enough for her to understand, he couldn't bring himself to say them. They echoed through his mind, resonating down the halls of the house through forty years of inner torment, burning his ears as he grasped her hand tighter.

Would saying he loved her really help, in the greater scheme of things? Whether or not he said it aloud, he couldn't possibly change the way he felt, or quell the innate respect, thanks and admiration that had coursed through him since day one... but why, when he could so easily think it, could he not voice such sentiment? He squeezed Maddie's hand slightly harder in his, eyes fixed on her frail face, deep in thought, praying that she knew...

"You do know, don't you?" he murmured quietly, bringing her hand to his chest and looking at her sleeping face. "'cause I don't know how to say it... but I mean it..." His lips brushed her hand before he lowered it back to the bed, placing it on the duvet, still held tenderly in his own. Her fingers squeezed at his gently, a soft smile drawing across her lips, and Gene looked up as she released her final breath, a soft whisper in the dark of the room.

"Yes..."

---

Alex was dozing, her hand resting on Fitz's back, lightly brushing across the warm fur, feeling the large dogs breath on her other arm as it rested at her side on the sofa. She didn't know how long she sat there, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat against her leg, his snuffling breath bringing a small smile to her face as she felt him twitch in his sleep. She was barely taking note of anything at all, drifting between sleep and consciousness, when suddenly Fitz had leapt from her lap, paws pushing off her stomach as he scrabbled towards the door, pawing at the wood and whining pitifully. Alex took a few moments to recover, and then joined him at the door, feeling Fitz bristling at her feet, his back quivering against her leg as she turned the handle and let him out.

She knew where he was running before he'd left her side.

---

Gene didn't know how long he sat there, but sit he did, staring at his mother's face and hoping in vain that somehow he was wrong, that she was still breathing and her heart was still beating, and that he was just frozen in a moment of time, one he'd be jerked out of at any moment and see her eyes open once again. When he felt the solid warmth against his leg and heard the soft, mournful whine of his mother's dog, he knew his wishing was pointless. He was frozen to the spot, staring at Maddie's face, feeling his eyes sting at the realization that the smile which remained on her lips was the last of its kind.

Fitz rested his head in Gene's lap, his whines soft, almost musical, calming the torrent of emotion that ripped through Gene's head and heart; anger, grief, despair and uselessness, all tearing at his chest and searching for any type of outlet it could get, but finding none.

Even as Alex approached, wrapping her arms around him and holding his head to her chest as her tears splashed into his hair, Gene couldn't find it in himself to do anything, rooted to the spot by the force of his emotion. Her heart pounded away beneath his ear as he continued to stare, bewildered and lost, at the familiar face which now lay silent at the heart of his desolation.

His body was incapable of movement, his mouth slack with shock, eyes stinging with foreign and unshed tears as the weight of his loss pressed down upon him like a tonne of bricks. Nothing seemed to make sense, his brain felt disconnected from his body, and though he knew he should let go of his mother's hand, that there was no use holding onto it anymore, and that she couldn't feel his touch in the slightest, he held on desperately, as though scared to break this final connection, as though if he were to let go he would be accepting her death, accepting that he hadn't been able to help...

And so he held on, both hands tight around hers, refusing to let it go cold, to accept that she had left him...

He sat there for hours, with Alex's arms around his neck and her head rested on his as she sat on the arm of his chair, and Fitz's head on his lap. He sat there until the sun peaked through the crack in the curtains, and until the beam of light fell on his mothers pale face. At that moment, as the white pallor of death became prominent, Gene's whole body sagged, the resolve that he had somehow maintained as the darkness remained, the hope that he was mistaken, that she was sleeping, slipping away into nothingness. He felt Alex's hand slide into his hair, felt her lips on his forehead, and he closed his eyes against the pain that threatened to swallow him whole, using her body as a pillow as she soothed his anguish with tender fingers.

Later – he had no idea how much later – Alex drew away, tilting his chin up tenderly, her eyes puffy with tears as she whispered to him. "Have you said goodbye?"

Gene glanced once more at the bed, gulping, and shaking his head. "No..." he gently covered her hand with his, closing his eyes to her touch before murmuring, "stay with me?"

Alex nodded. "Ok..." She stood up, slipping from the chair and gently rubbing his shoulder, waiting for him to move.

When he did, he was slow and fearful, one hand remaining around Maddie's as the other, trembling and clammy, traced the line of her face, before he leant forwards, pressing his lips lightly to her forehead.

"Bye Mam," he murmured, "yer daft cow..." His voice was soft, full of emotion, and even as the final phrase left his lips, Alex knew full well it was a teasing endearment which had followed them through the years, and she covered her mouth, feeling tears well once more at the sight of him so vulnerable and grief-stricken.

Gene pressed another kiss to Maddie's forehead, longer this time, his eyes closed as he took one last moment of solitude from the soft flowery scent that had been the one constant in his life. As he pulled away, a single tear slid from his eyes and splashed onto her cheek, before he released her hand with a heart-wrenching pang.

He tore his eyes away and reached blindly for Alex's hand; without a word, she led him away, fingers wrapped around his as they entered the hall. Fitz followed and she pulled the door shut behind them quickly, and as soon as it clicked into place, Gene was clinging to her, drawing her desperately against his chest and tangling his fingers into her hair. He stumbled backwards blindly, his back coming to contact with the wall as he held her, his breath ragged and choked. Alex did nothing but return the gesture, her arms around his waist, fingers trailing soft lines down his back, head on his chest, waiting until he had calmed slightly before drawing him into the living room and towards the sofa, where he collapsed into the cushions without grace or care.

His long legs stretched out in front of him, his arm draped over the sofa, eyes closed and head thrown back, chest rising and falling heavily as he tried to reign in the knee-buckling sorrow that bore down on him. Fitz leapt up to join him, treading a careful circle in the neighbouring cushion before curling up, his ears flat against his head and his eyes doleful and lonely, even as Gene's hand buried itself in the fur that covered his back. Alex moved towards the door, intending to fetch him a drink and some food, but Gene's hand shot out, tugging on her wrist, pulling her back towards him.

"Sit with me..." he said pleadingly, and though his eyes were still closed and gave nothing away, his fingers were tight around her flesh, his desperation painstakingly evident. Slowly, Alex moved back towards him, settling onto the arm of the sofa with her fingers caressing Gene's cheek. He let out a soft, breathy sigh before pulling her lightly into his lap, holding her close and sliding one hand to the pulse point at the side of her neck.

"It's beating," he murmured, fingers lingering at her throat, his eyes still closed, and Alex was certain she heard relief in his tone.

She nodded slowly, "yes."

Gene said nothing for several moments, opening his eyes to look at her, his expression distant and pained. Without a word, he pulled her against him, resting his chin on the top of her head and wrapping his fingers around hers, trying with all his might to dissolve into her and forget everything other than the feel of her against him, held safely in his arms.

"Alex?" He said eventually, his voice cracking.

"Yes, Gene?" She said, one hand in his, the other absently stroking Fitz's head.

He hesitated, and then murmured, "Can you call 'em? The funeral whatsits or whatever they're called... I- I can't... I don't think I can..."

Alex lifted her hand from the dogs head, cupping Gene's cheek and meeting his eyes, "you don't need to," she whispered. "I'll do it... Straight after you eat something and have a shower."

Gene didn't bother to protest.

---

He picked his way through a sausage sandwich, appetite completely absent despite not having eaten for almost twelve hours. He managed half a round, and then tossed the rest to Fitz, watching as the hungry dog devoured it in one mouthful. Running large hands over the dogs' body, Gene sighed, ruffling the ears and lightly tickling beneath the chin. He'd forgotten Fitz even existed until he'd entered the living room the night before, and then he'd managed to distract himself from his worry by feeding the starving Alsatian copious amounts of food and tossing the ball half-heartedly, until the big lump had become bored, slinking over to rest his head in Gene's lap. He'd lain down after that, with Fitz stretching out alongside him, gently butting his face whenever he became overly agitated.

Now, as he looked at the dog, watching him chew his tennis ball to pieces, and wondered what would happen to him. He was huge – that was half the reason his mother had brought him – but as far as Alsatians went, he was a softie. Maddie had wanted someone nearby to depend on for safety once Gene moved to London, and a dog had seemed the sensible choice; Fitz had joined her a month before Gene had left, and it had never occurred to him that his mother would outlive the loopy hound- because that simply wasn't how it went... Now the dog was two years old, not yet in his prime, and homeless, and that thought chilled him to the bone; his mother had loved the dog, often doting on him as she spoke down the phone to Gene himself, and that, in his opinion, made the scruffy bugger family.

He glanced across at Alex as she entered the room, feeling mellow and sentimental, watching her as she approached, pausing only briefly to scratch Fitz's head before she took the seat next to him, curling into his chest and tracing her fingers over his rumpled shirt. He closed his eyes, feeling tiredness tugging at his eyes, but knowing sleep would evade him until he could literally move no more. The feel of her with him was a comfort, and he felt slightly braver, arms wrapping around her back as he touched his mouth to her forehead, feeling incapable of anything else.

"Have a shower Gene," Alex whispered quietly, "have a shower, and put some fresh clothes on – I'll leave them in the bathroom." She kissed the corner of his mouth, and then stood up again.

Gene looked at her sadly, voice soft, "why are you here, Alex?"

She blinked, frowning slightly, and then touched the back of her hand to his cheek, "because I'm going to look after you," she whispered, hesitating only slightly before adding, "and because I love you." With a brush of lips to his head, Alex left him alone, Fitz close on her heels as she picked up his food bowl.

----

Alone in the room, Gene's skin prickled, his tired brain dredging up mental images of the last time he had sat here with his mother, drinking tea and eating garibaldi's just before he'd left for London. She'd been happy and smiley, laughing at his turns of phrase, reminiscing about stupid things he had done in childhood, telling him she'd miss him... He'd always meant to come back, but they'd spoken every Sunday for two years, and somehow that had seemed enough; he'd never considered that it would take her phoning from her death bed to bring him home- he'd just assumed that when he was ready, he'd make the long drive up to Manchester and spend a few days with her.

As he pulled himself to his feet and walked shakily upstairs to the bathroom, he tried in vain to block out a rush of emotion, trying to ignore the mirror in the hall where his mother had dolled herself up for a date a year after his father left, passing by the photos on the wall that he and Stu had once turned upside down in their frames and waited for his mother to notice, walking past the washing basket on the landing where once he'd hidden, just for the sake of jumping up out of it as his mother climbed the stairs for the toilet.

He stripped off in the bathroom, stepped into the shower and stood under the cold water, blasting himself until he was completely numb and barely able to feel his fingers. He stepped out, wrapping himself in the fluffy towel Alex had laid out for him and shivering against the chill. As he towelled himself dry and pulled on the clothes Alex had left for him, he wondered what he had done to deserve her, what he could ever offer in return; he'd shown himself that morning that he would never be able to say those three little words, that he couldn't voice anything he felt for her, despite how deep it might run within his body.

With a sigh, he trudged heavily back down the stairs, avoiding the living room in favour of the kitchen, where Alex sat with her hands curled around a cup of coffee, Fitz curled up at her feet. She'd changed into a fresh pair of black jeans, along with a red v-necked blouse- his normal reaction would have been to trace her curves with his fingers, show her how much he liked her new outfit and then proceed by ripping it off – he couldn't even bring himself to admire it, and he sat down beside her at the kitchen table, letting her twine her fingers with his and squeeze at him in silent reassurance. He reached out for her coffee, taking a large gulp for himself, before gently kneading his forehead with his fingers, a soft groan leaving his mouth as grief mingled with exhaustion.

"Come on," Alex murmured, getting to her feet and tugging at his hand. "You need a lie down."

---

It wasn't lost on him, as they lay chest-to-chest on the sofa, her hand rubbing gently at the skin beneath his shirt and her back pressed into the cushions, that it was this same situation of comfort and grief that had brought them together all those months ago. But the tables had turned since then, he realized. Then, he had reached out to Alex, gathering her against his chest as a friend and a companion; now, she reached for him, providing solace and comfort that he could never hope to thank her for, holding him as a lover, a partner...

He wanted to be scared, to panic at her open admission of love and run for the bloody hills, as he would have done a few months ago; but he couldn't bring himself to be sorry for Alex's love, or even to wish things were less serious- he liked being serious, he realized. He liked having someone to wake up to every morning and fall asleep with at night, and he liked knowing that whatever happened, however much shit he was dragged through and whatever hurt he had to endure, she was there to hold his hand, to stroke his hair and to ease away the lines of worry on his face.

His mother had been right; Alex made him happy- happier than he'd ever been with his wife, happier than he'd been on his own- and she was worth holding onto. He didn't like to think what the last day would have entailed without her, what he might have reduced himself to in his grief; drink, fags and strippers, probably. Somehow Alex's presence drove all of those desires away, and all he wanted, all he needed, was to sink into her embrace and forget everything else. He could forget the heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, and the cold fear of what may or may not lie beyond death, as long as Alex's scent inhabited his nostrils and her body rested softly alongside his own.

Eventually, he felt exhaustion weighing him down, and even though it was fitful, he dozed off, passing away several hours in a frenzied sleep, remaining oblivious as Alex allowed the funeral director in and watched them carry the heavy oak coffin from the house.

As the door closed behind them, Gene stirred, rising wearily to his feet at seeing Alex in the hall, silent tears trickling down her cheeks. He gulped, approaching her slowly, pulling her close and pressing his face into her neck, breathing deeply.

"She's gone," he said softly, voice trembling, "hasn't she?" And for a moment, Alex saw the child he once was, laid bare before her as he shook with grief.

"Yes..." Alex whispered, "I didn't want to wake you, but they said you can see her before the-"

"No," Gene cut her off, pulling her back into the living room. "I don't want to see her like that."

---

Alex knew he didn't sleep that night; he refused to return to his childhood bed, and seemed to consider it sacrilege to even consider using his mothers, and so the two of them lay down on the sofa, with Fitz curled up in his basket on the other side of the room. He spent the night tossing and turning, breaking into cold sweats whenever he began to doze off, and by five in the morning, he'd given up, dragging himself to his feet and sloping towards the kitchen. Alex watched him go, seeing the mournful way in which he trailed his fingers over the door handle before leaving, biting her lip to quell tears. She knew he wouldn't sleep here, knew he was exhausted and angry and bitter, and she knew she had to help him, but somehow suggesting that they leave the house, if only for a few hours, seemed insensitive and cruel.

----

After five hours of watching him slumping in the furniture, drinking copious amounts of coffee and tracing his fingers around the rim of china cups as though praying for a mystical creature to burst out and grant him three wishes, Alex had had enough, and led him out of the house by the hand, leaving Fitz in the living room with a large bowl of food.

Gene didn't even protest it, vaguely registering that the temperature outside was chilly before he allowed her to steer him to the passenger seat of the Quattro, barely even glancing at her as she turned the key in the ignition, resting his head on the windowpane and simply allowing her to drive.

---

She'd noted the Motel at the other end of town as she drove towards the shops the other evening, and though she doubted it was of any great quality or reputation, it seemed to her like the perfect place for her to help Gene clear his head. She booked them into a room, and as the landlady led them upstairs she could feel Gene relax slightly, heard the breath of relief as he sank into the small wicker chair in the corner of the dingy room.

His muscles were less tense, his posture more relaxed, but even with the change of scenery he was agitated and twitchy, shifting uncomfortably. Alex sat at the bottom of the double bed, her knees tucked into her chest as she watched him, wondering how to help him, if there was any way to aid him through his bitter grief; she knew talking wouldn't help, that he'd close himself off from her immediately, and she knew that simply sitting there in his lap would only prolong the inevitable grief when she left him alone again. He needed an outlet, something physical to distract him, mellow him down, possibly exhaust him enough to lure him into sleep, and somehow, after some consideration, only one thing seemed plausible.

Drink, she had thought originally, before common sense got the better of her and she realized it was only as effective as her sitting with him, if not less so, and somehow the idea of a depressed, drunk Gene was more than she felt able to handle, and unless he reached the point of unconsciousness, it might not even make him sleep.

Cigarettes were her second thought, but he'd smoked enough of them in the past few days without her encouraging it, and it was only a distraction, it wouldn't exhaust him enough to lull him into sleep.

So as far as Gene's interests stretched, that just left sex. She could feel her stomach flip slightly, watching him shift in his chair uncomfortably. Gene Hunt was a man who expressed himself physically, and sex was the one thing she knew to have always calmed him down; if he was angry, the sex was fast and dirty, but when he finished, he still gathered her close and kissed her temple. If he was feeling particularly sentimental towards Alex, he expressed it through gentle caresses, soft kisses and whispers of his lips against her skin.

She wasn't sure which he would demonstrate now, in the wake of grief and mourning, but as she looked at his tense, agitated body as he fidgeted in his seat, she realized it didn't matter.

---

When she emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she couldn't be sure what to expect; he looked distant and lost, and even as his eyes trailed up over her scantily clad form she wondered if he was really taking any of it in.

She had originally debated leaving her clothes on- he always seemed to enjoy peeling them away from her body- but she knew he wouldn't initiate contact, knew that if she wanted to provoke his primal urges then she needed to be as openly forward as possible. She saw the bulge in his jeans grow larger as she swayed her hips suggestively, saw him gulp as she approached him and felt his breath on her skin as she slid into his lap, her mouth next to his ear and fingers slipping buttons from their holes.

"Alex, I can't-"

"Shush," she murmured softly, lips covering his neck, trailing down to the v of skin at his chest, tongue flicking out and drawing soft breaths from his lips. "Let me look after you."

Gene's breath was heavy as he answered, "don't need looking after..."

"Yes, you do," Alex murmured, unfastening the last few buttons of his shirt before pushing the fabric away from his chest. Her lips traced a soft line up his chest and neck, her lower body moving slowly against his. Gene's hands were on her waist, pushing her softly away, until her hands brushed over his crotch, sparking a groan from him that was involuntary and ragged. Her lips slid lower, down to his stomach as she slipped from his lap, pushing his legs apart and kneeling between them. Just as her lips brushed his waistband, he let out a soft whimper, giving in as her fingers deftly undid his trousers and pushed both them and his boxers low on his hips. "Let me look after you," she murmured, her breath teasing across the tip of his erection. Gene gasped, his hands moving to the back of her head, before pulling her down onto him.

----

He hadn't wanted to do anything; she'd walked out of the bathroom, and even though his eyes had trailed up over her body and his groin stirred at the sight of her in her skimpy lace underwear, he hadn't intended to respond. In fact, even as she swayed towards him, he'd felt no inclination whatsoever to reach out and touch her, even as she slid into his lap and brushed his already half-erect length with her centre through the fabric of his clothes.

He could have resisted easily enough if she hadn't brushed his skin with her lips, and if she hadn't kept grinding her hips slowly against him. The moment her mouth fell to his neck he knew he was lost, even as he attempted to push her away. Her hands brushed across him, and something gave way; he stopped trying to fight, watched as she slid to the floor, kissing down across his soft stomach and pushing the trousers and boxers aside, and the second she was there, between his legs, wearing nothing but skimpy lace and offering to look after him, he knew there was no point denying it. His fingers were in her hair and he was pulling her mouth slowly over him in moments, closing his eyes to the touch of her lips.

---

She took him deep in her mouth, negating to lick and tease at his tip as she usually did, angling him instead towards the back of her mouth, sucking him gently before sliding her mouth up and down, her hand slipping up between his legs to caress the heavy weight of his balls, hearing his soft groan of pleasure before releasing his length from her hot mouth, instead swiping her tongue along the underside of his erection, fixing her eyes briefly on his, watching his eyes darken with familiar lust. She gently kissed her way up, small whispers of the lips against the hot, straining flesh before returning to his tip, tongue flicking across the sensitive bud of nerves before she covered him yet again, taking him as deep as possible and then trailing up, her teeth grazing the hard length of him while one hand wrapped around his base, moving gently up and down in time with her mouth. He was wrought with pleasure, his fingers digging into her scalp as small gasps and groans left his lips, and she smiled against him as she continued on.

She could feel him tense, feel his whole body stiffen, every muscle clenching as she sucked harder, hearing the desperate, lustful noise that always succeeded in turning her to goo, a moan leaving her mouth, vibrating down his shaft and through his whole body...

And then he snapped.

----

He didn't know what happened; one second he was enjoying it, the soft lips and tongue wrapped around him, teasing him into bliss. The next, something hit him, something that made his pent up grief and angst surface, and he couldn't help the sudden burst of desire that shot through him. His melancholy, his grief and his hurt all transformed into desperation, and as he dragged her mouth over him, fingers hard in her hair, he was blinded to everything else. His control splintered, and as he thrust his hips up to meet her mouth, he didn't hear her whimper of protest, was oblivious to the tears streaming down her face, and the way she stopped trying to pleasure him.

It was only after stars burst before his eyes and he had gruffly ordered her to swallow, holding her over him until he had completely emptied himself into her waiting mouth that he noticed.

It was only when Alex let out a large, shuddering sob, pushing against his legs as though to pull away, that Gene remembered she was even there, and in that moment the bliss of his relief, though still causing his body to tremble and quiver with its intensity, was replaced by all-consuming guilt. His hands fell away from her, and as she pulled her head away he felt his body sag in the chair, trembling at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks, flinching at the sight of the swollen flesh around her mouth that was certain to bruise from the violence of his assault.

He stared at her, aching to comfort her and yet simultaneously too terrified to touch her. She remained between his legs, incapable of movement as she trembled with shock and shook with tears.

In the end, Gene slumped onto the floor in front of her, fingers shaking as he traced the line of her face, thumb brushing hesitantly across her lips before he whispered, voice cracked and broken, "I'm sorry... I'm so, so fucking sorry, Alex..."

She was still crying, the make-up she had applied just for him running down her cheeks with the endless flow of tears, and it was all he could do to resist pressing his lips to her face, to stop himself attempting to kiss away the pain he had so thoughtlessly inflicted.

She met his eyes, still crying, though her sobs were silent and the tears splashed unchecked to the floor as she slipped her arms around his neck, hands seeking the warm reassurance that she always found in the touch of his bare skin, in the fuzz of hair at the back of his neck. Gene stayed still, terrified to touch her in case he hurt her again, his hands hanging loosely at his side as she cried silently into his neck, her chest pressed into his.

He was still shaking as he twisted his head, feeling his eyes sting slightly as he whispered again, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Jesus, Alex, I'm sorry..."

"Hold me?" She whispered timidly, clinging to him tighter than ever. She could feel him clam up, felt his muscles tensing at her request, and she drew back, her eyes puffy and desperate. "Gene, please... please..."

"I can't!" He said desperately. "I can't hurt you again!" He didn't move away, but nor did his hands move to comfort her, and a sob left Alex's lips as she raised a hand to his cheek.

"You won't," she whispered softly. "I don't blame you, Gene... I wanted you to-"

"Wanted me to what, Alex?" He asked bitterly, pushing her away forcefully. "To hurt you? To make you cry? To make us both feel like shit?"

"No," Alex whispered. "I wanted- I thought it might help..."

Gene stared at her, seeing the blatant honesty, the need for him to understand... and then he was raising a hand to her cheek again, tracing it with quivering fingertips as he murmured, "And did it, Alex? Did it help?"

"Yes," she said softly, covering his hand with hers. "You're grieving, Gene; you're allowed to be angry... I know you won't do it again..."

"Do you?" He asked, voice soft and gruff.

Alex nodded slowly. "Yes... I trust you..." She moved closer again, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw line and whispering into his skin. "Just hold me, Gene."

Hesitantly, he slid his hands to her waist, gulping as she pressed closer to him both of them trembling as he wrapped her into his chest, breath shaken as he said softly, "I don't deserve you, Alex."

---

**Big thank you to Feline yet again for all her lovely feedback on beta-duty :-)**

**Unfortunately unless I crack out another chapter by friday (unlikely) there wont be any updates for a few weeks guys, sorry! Got a hectic few weeks coming up lol.**

**Mage of the Heart**


	23. Through The Shadow There Is Sunshine

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

Gene carried her over to the bed a while later, tucking them both beneath the covers with his arms wrapped timidly around her, still cared that she might cry out in pain or shove him away. He could feel sleep tugging at his eyes, and despite wanting to fight it, despite being scared of what his sleeping form might allow him to do, he could feel his eyes drooping, and he fell into the abyss of darkness as he gave way to sleeps irresistible pull.

----

When Alex awoke, it was dark, and the space beside her where Gene should have been was empty. Looking around, she found him hunched over in the wicker chair in the corner, cigarette glowing bright in the darkness and a glass of whiskey clenched in his other hand. He was watching her, and though the room was dark, she could see the emotion in his eyes reflected in the half-light, saw the fear, the guilt and the grief all combined in their depths, and she wanted nothing more than to hold him, lay him down on the bed and stroke away the lines of guilt that littered his worn face.

She didn't; instead she simply tucked her knees up to her chest and looking at him levelly, waiting for him to say or do something. He made no move, except to take a long drag on his cigarette and finish the rest of his whiskey, and eventually –inevitably, even- it was Alex that gave in to her emotions, padding quickly and silently into the bathroom to pull on her clothes before sitting herself back on the bed, hoping that her more modest clothing might somehow encourage him to reach for her- it didn't.

"Come here, Gene," she murmured softly, stretching a hand towards him. Gene did nothing, still staring at her with a broken expression on his face, taking another drag on his cigarette in the dark. She waited for a response, and when none came, she sighed, dropping her hand to her lap and biting on her lip slightly. "Gene, I'm not angry with you for before..."

"Didn't say you were, Bolly," he murmured, the returned use of her nickname causing her to flinch slightly. His gaze was averted now, resting, not on her eyes as before, but on the curve of her lips, trying to make out the bruise in the darkness, to convince himself to stay away from her... But in the dim light there was nothing, no sign of redness, no way of seeing the pain he'd inflicted upon her, and he didn't dare to move.

"What are you scared of, Gene?" she whispered, slipping from the bed and walking forwards to stand before him, not touching, but still breaching his personal space.

A moment later, Gene had stood up, looking down at her with darkened eyes, refusing to touch her, but bringing his face close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. "How much can you take, Alex?" He rasped, voice throaty and dangerous. "How much do I need to hurt you before you realize that I'm no good for you, that every time I'm angry it'll be you that gets the brunt of it?"

Alex looked at him levelly, her eyes unblinking as she whispered, "How many times do I need to tell you, you're not the beast you think you are?"

For a while he just stared at her, stared as though he could see nothing else but the hazel of her eyes and curls of her hair, and then his hands were on her cheek, softly stroking the tender skin around her mouth as he spoke again. "You don't understand, Alex," he murmured, leaning forward to trail the tip of his nose up the side of her neck, then up her cheek to her forehead, where he pressed his lips lightly above her eyebrow. He breathed her in, agonized by her scent, by the knowledge of what he had done to her... "I'm meant to look after you," he murmured, eyes closed and resting his forehead against hers, "but I can't even protect you from me."

"I don't need you to protect me," Alex said quietly. "I just need you to let me in... let me help you."

Gene pulled back, cupping the back of her head with shaking hands as he murmured, "you're more inside my head than you know, Alex; you have been for bloody ages and it fucking terrifies me!"

Alex slid her hand to his cheek, thumb teasing across his lips. "Talk to me," she implored softly, "tell me why."

He looked at her, saw the raw emotion in her eyes, the unshakeable devotion and the gentle sympathy, and before he knew what had happened he caved, leading her to the bed and laying them both down, his arms around her as he spoke.

---

"It scares the shit out of me, Alex," he said in a soft voice, but Alex could detect a steely hint of anger in his tone, even as his gentle fingers began caressing the line of her neck. "I shouldn't need you the way I do- I shouldn't have to be with you just so I can get a fucking break from everything else, but I can't help it..." He took a deep breath, fingers tangling into her hair before he went on.

"I've lost everyone else, Alex," he whispered, "Sam, Stu, now me Mam... You're all I've got left, and I'm already ballsing it up."

Alex slid closer, tracing the shell of his ear with her fingertips. "No, you're not, Gene; you'd have to do alot more than lose control in bed to get rid of me."

"You keep acting like I didn't hurt you," Gene said, his voice pained as he looked away from her, and she could hear his teeth grinding as she shook her head in protest, voice soft.

"I'm not pretending at all; it hurt, Gene, I'm not denying that... But did you mean it to?"

Anguish hung from every word as he retorted, voice desperate and pleading, "Alex, does it look like I'm enjoying this? Do you really need to ask me if I-?"

She stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking her head. "I know you didn't, Gene; so just forgive yourself, please... I can't help you if you try and block me out."

Arms around her waist, Gene hugged her to him, pressing a hard kiss to her cheek before whispering quietly, "I won't."

---

They slept into the early hours of the morning, and though he awoke a few times, Alex's soothing warmth kept him grounded, and he soon slipped back into slumber, his arms wrapped tightly around her body as he clung to the comfort she offered.

When they left the Motel at eleven, Gene slipped a hand into hers, squeezing lightly and trying to say with his eyes just how grateful he was that she was there. He assumed, from the warm way in which she returned his smile, that she understood, and as she moved to start the engine, he took the opportunity to lean over, tilt her head upwards and caress her lips lightly with his own for the first time in over a day, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as he did so.

It was brief and gentle, but even as he drew away Alex could see the shadows in his eyes lighten ever so slightly. As she started the car, his arm slid around to drape across the back of her seat, fingers brushing the top of her arm as he rested his head back, eyes closed peacefully as he breathed deeply. She briefly reached over to stroke his cheek with the tips of his fingers, then turned the car around and headed back to Maddie's house.

---

Fitz bounded towards them the moment they stepped through the door, leaping up to place his paws on Gene's chest as he walked into the living room. For a moment, she worried that Gene was still too enveloped in grief to respond, that he might shun the dog aside, but then he was snorting with laughter, causing a smile to stretch across Alex's lips as he struggled to catch the dogs flailing paws in his hand. Fitz swiped a long, wet tongue across Gene's cheek, then pounced to the other side of the room, belly flat on the ground whilst his rear end stuck in the air, his tail wagging so hard that it became a blur. A deep, warm sound of amusement rose from Gene's chest, and when Alex looked round at him again he was grinning, face splitting into a happy, if somewhat reluctant smile as he knelt down to call the dog towards him.

Sinking into the sofa, her legs curled up beneath her, Alex bit her lip to stifle her own delight, watching as Gene teased Fitz with the tennis ball, laughing when the dog barrelled into him and knocked Gene flat on his back, completely vulnerable to the dogs excited nuzzling and licking, guffawing as he attempted to push the dog away. In that moment of joviality, Alex saw thirty years fall away from his face, and her heart swelled with warmth at the sight of him, aching to see that happiness again and again, over and over... As she watched, Gene finally pushed the excited dog off his chest, tickling the large dog's underbelly and growling playfully as Fitz yapped in joyous response.

When he looked up, he met Alex's eyes, stopping in his tracks at the sight of her tearful smile, instantly sitting up, hand still scratching Fitz's back while the other beckoned her over. She hesitated, but a moment later she was sat opposite him, with Fitz stretched out between their knees, his legs held high as he shamelessly displayed his belly, asking for their attention and looking from Gene to Alex with his tongue dangling from his mouth. Gene grinned, rubbing and scratching at the dogs' tummy whilst Alex stroked beneath his chin, laughing when Fitz playfully licked at her fingers and closed his mouth softly around her wrist.

When she looked up, Gene's eyes were misty on hers, a soft smile playing across his mouth as she nervously bit at her lip. She stopped, vaguely noticing as Fitz released her hand and as, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fitz flip to his feet in indignation, now butting his head against Gene's arm in a demand for attention. She saw Gene lift his elbow, saw Fitz wriggle his way beneath it and lick playfully at Gene's face, but he didn't seem fazed, barely even glancing away from Alex as his hand rubbed into the hounds' chest. The seconds ticked by, with Fitz sprawling himself defiantly at Gene's feet, before the smile on Gene's face became a grin of mischief, hands darting to Alex's waist and tickling her mercilessly, her shrieks of laughter echoing around the living room as Gene pinned her to the floor, his throaty chuckle like music to her ears as she giggled and writhed at his touch, his hands finding the backs of her knees and her sides as she tried in vain to push him away. Fitz leapt on top of Gene's back, eliciting a brief grunt before he went on teasing Alex without mercy, the excitable dog yapping gleefully in his ear.

Eventually, after much protest and having left Alex shrieking without noise, Gene relented from his torment, laughing as he lay above her, one arm thrown over her waist whilst the other supported his head as he looked down at her, a look of complete amusement on his face.

"I've never seen you laugh so much," Alex said, reaching out to caress his cheek, her own face flushed with laughter as he smiled down at her.

"I don't think I ever have... not since I was a kid, anyway." There was a brief moment of sadness, before he pressed a kiss to her fingertips, briefly looking up as Fitz fought for his attentions, cold nose pushing into his ear and causing him to grimace. Alex laughed, tugging gently at Gene's shirt until he lay down beside her, dislodging Fitz from his back as he settled onto the carpet, his face resting alongside Alex's as his arm slid underneath her, pulling her into his side.

"Gene?" Alex murmured, slipping her arm across his chest and looking up to meet his eyes. He stroked her cheek softly, dipping his head to press a light kiss to her cheek.

"Mmm?" He murmured softly, settling down once more as he turned on his side towards her.

"Tell me about your mother..." she said quietly, sliding her hand beneath his shirt and rubbing soft circles into his spine.

Hesitantly, Gene looked at her, seeing her quirk her lips slightly before he asked, his voice gentle and quiet, "What d'you want to know?"

Alex shrugged, smiling softly at him. "Anything... whatever you want to tell me."

Gene smiled.

---

He didn't know where to start, but somehow it tumbled from his mouth openly, as though he had been keeping it all locked away and it had finally found a way of escape... and in a way, he realized that it had.

He told Alex about the time he and his mother had walked to the park to feed the ducks, only to forget the bread and return to the house in laughter.

He told her how once, when his father was drunk in the kitchen, he, Stu and Maddie had sat in the living room playing a game of Cheat, only for his mother to ask, in the middle of the game, exactly what she should do when her cards didn't fit.

He told her about the time he had visited her after work one evening, having received a tempting offer of tea and cake, only to arrive to find the kitchen in disarray, a blackened brick which might once have passed for sponge cake placed on the table, and a cup of hot water because the corner store had run out of teabags.

He told her how when they were younger, Maddie would take he and Stu up to bed and read them bedtime stories from a book she had kept since her own youth, putting on all the silly voices and exaggerating lines until the two boys had fallen about laughing, even once Stu had reached the age of ten and by all rights outgrown fairy stories.

He told her how once, in the dead of night, when he had awoken with a nightmare and been scared to enter his father's bedroom, Maddie had sat with him on the sofa, stroking his hair and rocking him to sleep while singing him soft lullaby's.

He told her how when his marriage fell to pieces, it was Maddie who convinced him to start afresh, who supported him when he accepted the transfer to London, and how it was Maddie that kissed him goodbye as he got in the car to embark on his new life.

When he was finished, he was shaking with grief, but somehow the bitter pain that had inhabited his being for the last day seemed distant, the violent rage settling itself more calmly in his chest, and as Alex stroked his cheek he felt more at peace, more capable of grieving for his lost mother.

When the room fell silent and he had brushed away Alex's tears of sympathy, choking back some of his own, he reached for the sofa with his arm, dragging the duvet over them both and kissing her cheeks, then her eyelids, then her forehead, finally pressing a chaste kiss to her parted, slightly bruised lips before laying his head down, tugging her slightly closer as Fitz draped himself over their legs. They both looked at him simultaneously, and then smiled, Gene pulling Alex's head to his chest, enjoying the sensation of her warm breath at the v of his shirt, watching her eyes fluttering closed as her arm slipped around his back, hand caressing the soft skin of his back.

"She sounds lovely, Gene," Alex murmured, kissing his cheek softly.

"Yeah, Alex..." he murmured softly, rubbing her waist lightly as he added, "She was."

----

He woke up with back ache from sleeping on the hard floor, but made no attempt to move as he watched Alex sleeping silently against him, her head pillowed comfortably on his arm. Fitz stirred at their feet, turning his eyes to Gene and wriggling excitedly up the duvet towards him, lodging himself in the gap between their legs with a look of utter pride. Gene snorted, lifting a hand to pet the dogs head briefly before murmuring, "you're as daft as yer Mam." His voice was quiet and soft, a note of grief creeping in as his fingers scratched at Fitz's ears, just before he felt Alex stir into consciousness against his chest, sparking a soft grin as he looked at her.

"Stop talking, go sleep," she murmured quietly, rubbing her nose in Gene's shirt and mumbling something incoherent. Fitz pricked his ears up at the sound of her voice, shuffling up the duvet towards her and, pushing his cold nose in her face, licking enthusiastically until she opened her eyes, cringing at the considerable amount of dog saliva now plastered over her face and raising a hand to wipe it away. When she glanced up, she was met with Gene's laughing eyes and despite her best attempts to glare at him, she knew the moment Fitz wriggled between them and licked happily at Gene's jaw that she couldn't be annoyed, and the smile broke out, laughter bubbling up as Gene pulled his head away from the dogs enthused licking.

"I'm starving, Alex," he wheedled as he held the dog away from him, grinning at her boyishly as his spare hand tangled into her hair. "Go make me some food..."

Alex snorted, pushing him away by the shoulders as he leant in to nuzzle her cheek and raising an eyebrow at him. "Was that your way of saying, please, Alex, you lovely lady, will you make me some food?"

He shrugged, "If you like." He pressed a swift kiss to her cheek, and then dislocated himself from their tangle of limbs, wriggling away from her and pulling Fitz away as he tried to settle himself firmly across Alex's stomach. She scowled at him, then threw the covers off, flipping the duvet into his face as she got to her feet.

---

It was midnight, and their peculiar sleep pattern of that day rendered them wide awake. After a day of silent companionship, Gene had decided to venture upstairs, and now he returned from his childhood bedroom with a large, dusty box, which he settled directly in front of the sofa before sitting next to Alex, looking at the large box with apprehension. Alex ran her hand over his shoulder reassuringly, and then murmured, "What's in it?"

He shrugged, pulling her to him with one arm, gently nuzzling at her ear. "Photos, I guess... an' books and stuff..." he trailed off, shifting closer to her and resting one hand over her shoulders.

When he didn't move to stand up, Alex asked, in a quiet and gentle voice, "Do you want to look?"

He gave a small nod, letting Alex stand up first before joining her, placing his hands lightly on her waist as pulled the box open, a flurry of dust rising in the air and causing them both to sneeze and cough briefly before she reached in, pulling out a teddy bear first, which was dusty, missing half a leg and one eye. Gene snorted, taking it gingerly from her fingers and grinning, "bloody hell, I forgot this little bugger – he was Stu's. Barely put the thing down for ten years." Having ran a large finger over the teddy's fur, he placed it gingerly down on the sofa, just as Alex drew out a large, leather-bound photo album, deep red in colour. Gene hesitated when she held it out to him, apprehensive as to exactly what might be documented in the album itself, but a few minutes later they were sat with their backs against the sofa, opening the album up across their laps as Gene pointed out relatives and friends. Even as she laughed and teased at Gene's baby pictures, it wasn't lost on Alex that there were gaps in the album, as though someone had gone through and removed individual pictures with deliberate intent, and nor was it lost that there was no referral to Gene's father at all, but she made no reference to it and cuddled into Gene's chest as his gruff voice tinted with emotion every time his mother was pictured.

When they came to the last page, Alex frowned, looking at the dated black and white photos with surprise. A tall, handsome, dark haired man stood with his arm around a much younger, eighteen year old Maddie, both smiling proudly at the camera, hands clasped together in front of them. He was dressed in soldiers' uniform, and looked at least ten years older than her, but there was no denying the beaming happiness that shone through their smiles, and as she looked at Gene, she asked, "Who's he?"

Gene smiled, holding her closer as he murmured, "Captain Jack Callea – fought in the First World War, got a medal for bravery and met me Mam in a bar the day he got back home – barely left each other alone apparently."

"Is he-?"

"No, Alex, he isn't me old man." His lips pressed to her forehead lightly before he went on. "They got engaged – her an' Jack, I mean – but they didn't bother rushing into it. Figured the war was over, so what was the rush?" He sighed, running his finger down the length of the photograph with a sad smile on his lips. "Took him five years to ask her, an' by the time he did he was near dead as a dodo. One of the old wounds in 'is leg got infected, ended up needing to lose it, and then died after the op..." His voice was slightly cracked, but it hardened with his next sentence. "Mam never stopped wearing his ring though... she met me old man a year later and married 'im simply 'cause he asked her..."

Alex stared at the photographs on the page before her. "That's... that's awful... why did she-?"

"It was nineteen twenty-four, Alex; barely any women were unmarried at that age, and people were asking questions, her parents were being twonks, and she wanted out."

"She didn't love him?" Alex murmured, "Not even a little bit?"

Gene shrugged, "Guess she liked the bastard well enough to start with, but he wasn't Jack..." he met her eyes and murmured quietly, "Guess she figured she'd had 'er run of the fairytale and she just 'ad to make do with what she 'ad left... She wasn't after romance and chocolates, Alex, she wanted some stability, and he was offering it."

There was a silence, in which she knew Gene was questioning just how 'stable' his parents' marriage could have been when he was drunk and abusive. After a moment, when she saw his jaw and fists clench, she slipped a hand around Gene's neck and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"Would you ever get married again?" She asked eventually, after his body had un-tensed slightly.

His brow creased into a slight frown before he answered, "I dunno... maybe... s'long as she was a demon in the sack and had the mind of a sewer rat..." He grinned as she hit him lightly, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. "Would you?" He murmured, lips touching her knuckle as he met her eyes.

She shrugged. "It'd depend, I suppose," she said, resting her head on his shoulder and closing the album on their outstretched legs with her spare hand.

"On what?" Gene asked, fingers wrapping tightly around hers.

"On the guy," she murmured, "on where I am in life... on Molly..." she smiled sadly as he tilted her head up to look at him; his gaze was intense and focused, and Alex shivered.

"The only person I'd consider jumping into that hell-hole with again is you, Alex..."

He kissed her then, his mouth gentle and warm against her own, and though it was still brief and innocent in nature, when he pulled away Alex was finding it difficult to breathe. "Come on," he grunted, standing up and pulling her to her feet. "Let's see what other crap we've got in this thing."

---

They spent the early hours sprawled on the floor, skimming through photo albums with Gene lightly tracing his mothers face in each one, laughing at Gene's long lost toys, sobering at the sight of Maddie's wedding dress, and then giggling yet again as Fitz chased a stray spider around the room before devouring it in one swallow. A while later Gene drew out the dusty, peeling book of fairy tales that his mother had preserved from her own childhood and treasured throughout his, and in moments his fingers were tracing the cover lightly before he opened it, almost reverently, to the first page.

"Alex?" He murmured softly, eyes scanning the contents page with a soft smile on his face.

"Yes?"

He looked at her carefully, half-smiling, half biting his lip, before he held the book out to her. "Will you?"

Alex blinked, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Will I what? Read you a story?"

He nodded, handing her the book and shifting to rest his head in her lap, holding her hand across his chest and grinning up at her. "Please?" He pouted slightly, a smug smirk spreading over his mouth when she let out a dramatic sigh of relent and opened the book up.

"Which one?" She asked, voice reluctant, even as the smile settled onto her face.

Gene's answer was immediate, as though there was no doubt in his mind, "Hansel and Gretel."

Alex grinned, thinking he was joking, only to look down at him and see the look of complete seriousness on his face. "Really?" She asked, frowning.

He nodded slowly, watching as she turned carefully to the right page, and then closing his eyes as she slid her hand into his hair, listening to the soft lull of her voice, smiling as it began to wash over him.

"Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and-" she stopped, glaring down at his peaceful face and seeing a smile tease across his lips before muttering, "God I hate old English - do you have any idea how stupid this sounds?"

He grinned, nodding. "Yeah... don't stop, though... s'nice."

With a sigh, Alex went on, fingers feathering through his hair as she spoke. "Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and two children..."

---

Her voice was gentle, soothing, and as he closed his eyes he reminded himself of all the times his mother had sat with him, reading these very words as he cuddled into the crook of her arm, remembering how, occasionally, he would join in, citing the words along with her, laughing when Maddie would tap him on the nose, telling him to stop stealing the words from her mouth...

As he lay there, he realized too that he had forgotten just how long the story was, grinning as he called to mind memories of many nights when he had managed to convince Maddie to read the whole thing, extending his bedtime by at least an hour, often to the point that he ended up dozing off on her shoulder, waking up to see Stuart's smug grin at having stayed awake the whole time.

As Alex got into the role of storyteller, he grinned, hearing every exaggerated piece of dialogue presented in almost exactly the same way that his mother always had. By the end, Alex had perfected each role, with each character taking on a slightly different twang, causing Gene to chuckle softly as she immersed herself in it.

When she spoke the final sentence, Gene's grin split his face open, showing teeth as the memories of a thousand nights listening to his mothers' soft voice washed over him, and as Alex closed the book, he opened his eyes, looking up at her with a warm expression that turned her stomach to a puddle of goo.

"I've never read that version before," she whispered, setting the fragile book carefully on the arm of the sofa behind them, before returning her fingers to his hair, stroking the lines of his face. "It was always lots shorter when I read it..."

Gene smiled, holding her hand in his and murmuring quietly, "it's a pretty old book, Alex... gotta be at least eighty years..." He brought her fingers to his lips, turning his head slightly to the left to rest against her stomach, breathing soft.

For a long while, they lay in silence, Gene's eyes closed to the touch of Alex's hand and the gentle sound of her breathing, only occasionally disrupted by Fitz, who growled quietly in his sleep.

"Any better?" Alex whispered eventually, breaking the spell of silence between them as she gently massaged his scalp.

"Yeah..." he murmured quietly, smiling, before sitting up, twisting around to meet her gaze and reaching his hand out, gently stroking down the side of her cheek and neck with the back of his hand.

"Thank you," he murmured sincerely, his voice soft as he leant forwards to tentatively brush her still-painful lips in a feather light kiss.

Alex smiled, trailing her fingers over his ear and speaking quietly in reply, "it was nothing."

Gene shook his head, kissing her briefly again. "It was everything," he said gently, averting his eyes awkwardly when she looked at him quizzically, and then pressing a gentle kiss to her head. "It's four in the morning," he murmured. "Should probably get some sleep."

----

**Thought I'd dim down the angst for this chapter, so I hope you liked it!**

**I shall see you lovely people in two weeks, when I will –hopefully- get straight to work on the new chapter :-)**

**Until then, hope you enjoyed it, and as ever, I'd love to hear what you think.**

**Oh, and to Feline at TRA - a huge thank you for her lightning-fast beta-ing!**

**Mage of the Heart **


	24. One Final Goodbye

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

When Alex stirred into consciousness the next morning, Gene was just rising, lifting his head from her stomach and getting to his feet as he headed to answer the shrill call of the telephone, attempting to remain quiet as he crossed the room. He closed the door behind him, the dull click as the lock slipped into place too loud in the previously silent room, causing Alex to flinch slightly. She sat up, dropping her feet to the floor and smiling mildly when Fitz stirred from his basket, walking mutely over to place his head in her lap, warm breath caressing her hand as his large eyes looked up at her dolefully.

"You should be asleep, young man," she scolded playfully, only then glancing towards the clock and realizing that, in fact, it was twenty past one in the afternoon. With a sigh, she stood up, walking towards the door idly. Her hand reached forward to grasp the handle, but a moment later it had been wrenched open from the other side; Gene's face was set, his jaw tight, but before Alex could ask what was wrong, before the words had even begun to form in her throat, he was talking to her, his voice stiff and pained in his throat.

"Back later," he said, pressing a small, barely-there kiss to Alex's cheek before striding out the door, his face completely pale and drawn. Alex could only stare at him blankly, watching the wooden door thud shut behind him with confusion etched on her face. A few moments later, she heard the roar of the Quattro's engine, and the unmistakeable screech as Gene stepped on the accelerator and sped away to God knows where.

---

Two hours later, he still hadn't returned, and though Alex knew better than to worry – after all he was a grown man, and had looked after himself, however questionably, for a good few years before she came along- she couldn't help herself. Every few minutes she would jump to her feet and peer expectantly out the window, hoping that the gleaming red car would materialise in front of the house and allow her to abandon the sick worry that was rapidly flooding her stomach. It wasn't rational, she knew; he could be anywhere, doing something as simple as watching water go by – though the idea was unlikely, to say the least- but she couldn't shake the memory of his heart wrenching grief, or the worry that something would snap, that whatever progress they'd made in grieving would regress and she wouldn't be there to help him...

She busied herself with cleaning the kitchen, the living room and the bathroom, killing an hour of her time looking like a domesticated housewife to distract her mind and stop her wringing her hands in distress. When she had polished and hoovered each room to perfection, the rubber marigold gloves having picked up copious amounts of dirt, she phoned Ray at CID. She had hoped to find that there was a case they needed advice on, or that by some stroke of luck they had found a lead in the McKellen case, that they might need her expertise in Psychology to help them with a criminal profile... But there was nothing - absolutely nothing, aside from the knowledge that the Super was bitterly angry that his two senior officers had run off without so much as a goodbye. Nothing but that, and the fact that their replacements were bitterly harsh and, in Ray's own words, "strung up like a g-string on a washing line." After having reassured Ray that she and Gene would be back within a week, and that they would deal with the Super's anger immediately upon their return, the conversation reached its inevitable conclusion, despite her best attempts to draw it out with unnecessary inquiries as to the teams wellbeing. She hung up reluctantly, the dull 'clunk' of the phone as it settled into the cradle echoing around the empty room and resounding in her brain as she attempted to keep at bay the nagging, increasingly insistent unease in her stomach.

For a few brief moments, she entertained the idea of telephoning the Super herself, hoping that in doing so she might spare Gene some of the aggravation on their return, and maintain the illusion of distraction from the dark thoughts currently clouding her mind, but when the phone rang without answer for five minutes, she gave up, once more dropping the receiver into the cradle and trying not to sink into despair.

In the end, she was granted a respite from the painful thoughts that tore through her mind as Fitz pawed longingly at the front door, his leash caught up between his teeth as he looked from Alex, to the door, to Alex again. Deciding she could use the fresh air, and hoping silently that the dog could provide a big enough distraction that when they returned Gene would already be sprawled casually across the sofa, she fastened the collar on the dogs' neck, taking the house key from the sideboard and locking the door behind her.

---

It was only when she reached the corner of the street that she realized she had no clue as to whereabouts she was; she had never before visited Manchester, and she suspected it had probably changed more than a little in 2008, so even if she had, there would have been little hope for her. Fitz waited calmly at her heels, looking up expectantly, his large tail thumping on the floor behind him as he awaited her lead. Alex hesitated, eyeing him almost nervously, and then shrugged, turning left and hoping for the best as she attempted to navigate the strangely quiet streets with only her gut instinct to help her.

Fitz walked patiently at her heels, trotting happily beside her without complaint and behaving perfectly. She barely had to murmur the word 'sit' when they went to cross the roads, and when other pedestrians passed them by he made no attempt to jump up as he might have done with Gene or Alex herself. He didn't react to the sound of cars, nor the noisy clatter from nearby houses as families argued, and Alex silently wondered whether the dog was not silently announcing his own depression by acting as docile and sedate as possible.

Her opinion changed instantly when a small, white-haired poodle with a high-pitched, yelping bark, rounded the corner. A moment before, her trusting hand had loosely gripped the leash in its grasp, barely needing to maintain contact as the large dog remained resolutely at her ankle as though the model of perfection, and now the leash was trailing along behind him, splashing in small puddles as he tore up the pavement towards the unsuspecting and wholly unnerved female dog, who instantly pawed and whined at her owners ankle, begging to be picked up as the large brown and white ball of fur barrelled down the street, right up to the little old lady who looked scathingly at both Alex and Fitz in turn.

"Good God, woman!" She snapped as her gaze fell on Alex's beet red face, "Control that beast! Can't you see little Bessie is shaking in her boots?" Alex stared, both embarrassed and slightly taken aback; the woman's accent didn't come from Manchester, and somehow it felt odd that the first person besides Gene she met would be from London as well.

"I'm sorry," she stammered, glancing at the white poodle as though in apology, to see that she was indeed trembling in the ladies arm. Her gaze wandered to Fitz, who was slowly but surely lifting himself up onto his hind legs to sniff at Bessie's rear, and, flushing crimson, Alex snatched the lead up, tugging Fitz to her heel and ignoring the whine of protest that left his throat, leading him forcibly away with more mumbled apologies. Fitz resisted, pulling towards Bessie with brute force, until the little woman seemed to regain her senses and hurriedly walked away. The moment the brown tail of the ladies coat disappeared around the corner, Fitz was walking as calmly as ever, his trotting pace as regal as before; this time though, Alex's hand gripped the leash until her knuckles were white with the effort, and when a golden Labrador rounded the corner and Fitz attempted all too abruptly to mount her, Alex tugged him away, sparing an apologetic glance at the frowning owner, before turning around and walking them back to the house.

---

Gene was just pulling into the street as Alex unlocked the door, and the moment she had let Fitz into the house she bounded down the steps towards him, planting herself firmly in front of his broad body as he stepped out of the car, shutting the door lightly behind him. It took a few moments for Alex to notice the difference in his expression, but while the lines of his face were firmly set in thought, there was a slight hint of relief in the depths of his blue eyes. Though he said nothing, he pulled her tightly into the circle of his arms, one hand burying itself in her hair as his heavy breath tickled and teased across her scalp. She returned the embrace warmly, her hands slipping beneath the heavy coat to trace light patterns across his back, absentmindedly turning her face to press her soft, warm lips to the hollow of his neck.

"You ok?" she murmured softly, tracing her nose along the strong line of his jaw before drawing back to meet his eyes. His rough, warm hand cupped her cheek, and there was such depth in his gaze that she shivered, her heart swelling as he nodded slowly, before lightly pressing his lips to the small dimple at the corner of her mouth.

"Fine," he murmured, "I'm fine... c'mon..." catching her hand in his, squeezing slightly to reassure her when she saw the shadow of doubt spreading over her face, Gene led her towards the house, drawing her into his side and through the door towards the living room. Fitz lightly nudged Gene's knee with his nose as he steered Alex towards the sofa, but Gene barely ruffled the dog's hair once before he turned his body away, drawing Alex into him and sighing as her hair tickled his face, smelling faintly of fruity shampoo as he smoothed one hand over the flyaway strands.

She closed her eyes to the gentle caress, sighing lightly and resting her head on his chest before murmuring in a barely audible voice, "where'd you go?"

Gene's lips pressed to her hair, and the unmistakeable waft of cigarettes washed over her; there was no mistaking that Gene had spent the majority of his absence puffing on a cigarette, and from the way he held her, as though she were made of fragile glass that might break if he touched her too hard, she could only assume that it was out of stress. Her hand slid to his side, slipping under the plain shirt he wore to caress the soft, sensitive skin that always caused him to sigh softly. His breath blew lightly against her cheek as she turned her face up to his, eyes questioning even as his teeth worried his lower lip. Eventually, he traced a finger down across the plains of her face, thumb teasing across her lips before he murmured softly, "Mam's solicitor wanted to go through the will with me..." He seemed to flinch slightly, and Alex instinctively shifted closer, lips pressing to his cheek lightly as she brought her free hand to gently finger through his soft hair.

"What happened?" She asked softly, settling her head on his shoulder so that he didn't have to look at her face if he so wished. Gene's hand rested lightly on her waist, his chin coming to rest softly on the top of her head as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno... was sort of a blur... had to... I 'ad to get something from 'er... from the body, I mean an'..." his grip tightened ever so slightly before he spoke again, his voice cracking. "Dunno what they do in there, Bols, but it was like... like she'd lost fifty years... looked like she did when I was a kid- was bloody scary." He shivered, hooking an arm beneath her legs and tugging her gratefully into his lap, forehead resting lightly against the soft, thumping pulse of her neck. Alex said nothing, gently cradling his head with both hands, pressing her lips to his ear as he flexed his fingers lightly on her waist, as though in doing so he might banish some of the grief that had welled up yet again. "Wasn't... it wasn't bad... I mean- she looked happy... sorta peaceful..." his breath was warm, and he didn't move as he spoke, vivid recollections of his mother's silent, seemingly relaxed face flashing in front of his eyes, causing him to shake with a mixture of bitter grief at his loss, and gentle relief at the look of utter happiness that had imprinted itself on his mind.

With her fingers gently caressing Gene's scalp, Alex murmured softly in his ear, calming the harsh breaths with gentle words and soothing glances of her skin against his. "She's safe, Gene... you're safe..." She felt Gene's nails dig into her as his grip tightened on her waist at these words, and she met his gaze, noting the pleading questions in his eyes and feeling her chest contract.

"D'you believe in that sorta thing?" He murmured, "Heaven... hell... all that bollucks?"

Alex sighed, tracing the curve of his eyebrow with one finger. "Maybe," she whispered, trailing down his cheeks and over his jaw with a tender caress, eyes following the path that her fingers made over his skin. "Not so much heaven, just..." there was hesitance in her eyes, but Gene's eyes were quietly pleading, asking questions she knew he couldn't bring himself to voice aloud, lest her answer cause him further grief. "Well, I don't believe there's _nothing _there afterwards... Maybe it's heaven, maybe it's just a place where you feel happiest, but-" she gulped, then added, softly and quietly, "I just can't see why we'd exist if there was no place to go on to.."

Gene's mouth turned up into a smile of ironic amusement as his lips brushed her wrist. "Always had you down for the science-proven bollucks about big bangs and bloody chimpanzees..." his murmur was soft, almost relieved, and Alex smiled as she watched his face relax slightly, the muscles of his cheeks losing some of their rigidity as the smile widened ever so slightly on his lips.

"So- so she'd be with Jack, right? When she was happiest?" His eyes were hopeful, practically pleading, but the smile remained, as though that was what he really wanted for his mothers soul... Alex felt her lip tremble as she nodded, tears stinging at her eyes as she looked at him. "And Stu?" Gene asked softly, his voice almost childlike, vulnerable, to the point that that Alex had to pull him to her chest to hide her streaming tears as she answered him, fingers caressing his neck and scalp as he pressed soft, hesitant lips to her neck, as though asking for something – anything - that would make him feel better...

"Yes, Gene," Alex whispered, tears falling onto his hair. "She's with them."

The tension in his body lessened instantly, his arms sliding around her as he smiled shakily into the warm skin of her neck. "Good," he managed, his voice raw and grating. Alex was sure that as they sat, his head resting on her shoulder, face buried in her neck, that she felt a warm trickle of tears down her neck, but said nothing. When he eventually pulled back a while later, there was no further redness in his eyes, and Alex said nothing, only moving to rest her forehead lightly on his, feeling their breaths mingle.

For a while, they simply sat there, both of them lost in thought, eyes closed as they stayed still, ignorant to all but the warmth of one another's bodies and the array of welcoming smells that drifted from their clothes and permeated their nostrils.

Eventually, and somewhat to Alex's surprise, it was Gene who broke the silence, drawing slightly away from her and opening his eyes as he spoke, soft and timid. "She left you something..."

The statement caused Alex to open her eyes, lifting her head and frowning slightly at the absurdity of it. "Me?"

Gene nodded, then frowned, and then followed it up with a small shrug. "Yeah... well... indirectly, I mean..."

Alex raised one eyebrow in query, and he sighed, shifting slightly in his seat so that he remained more upright. "Gene, you can't leave something 'indirectly'... it doesn't quite work that way, its-"

A groan escaped Gene's lips as he attempted to distract her from a long-winded lecture, and eventually he opted simply to speak up loudly above her analysis of laws regarding the deceased. "She left me something then," he said, voice dropping a pitch when she paused in her speech, allowing him to continue. "She left me something to give to you... well not _you_, necessarily... I mean, she doesn't _say_ you, but I know what she meant and-"

"Gene, what are you on about?" Alex asked, fondness creeping into her voice as he rolled his eyes and her finger traced his cheek, a small smile on her red lips.

A moment later, he pushed her lightly off so that she was on the sofa next to him, looking thoroughly confused as he stood up and dug in the back pocket of his jeans, drawing out a folded square of paper which he handed to her, his eyes averted, fixed on the ground. "Here..." he said, "it's the last paragraph." He shoved his hands into his pockets, and Alex could hear him gulp as she carefully unfolded the paper, smoothing it out so that she could see it more clearly. It was a photocopy, and a glance at the top of the page told her all she needed to know; it was Maddie's will.

She looked up to him, her eyes unwittingly panicked, unnerved, as she spoke. "Gene, I don't want to intrude on-"

"Alex," Gene interrupted, looking at her with warm eyes that were full of emotion and depth, "please... read it – you don't have to read it all, just the last paragraph...it's for you."

She hesitated a moment too long, just long enough that she could see the pain and desperation flash in his eyes, before she turned her eyes to the page, arms shaking nervously. It felt wrong to hold a copy of Gene's mother's last wishes, when she had barely known the woman for twelve hours, and yet here Gene was, insisting it was meant for her, that it was fine... Her fingers trembled as she folded the paper over so that all she could see was the final paragraph, blocking the rest from view, her eyes brimming as she read the words before her.

'_My final bequest is to my son, Eugene, for the engagement ring given to me by Captain Jack Callea, the love of my life. It is my dying wish that this ring be passed to whosoever touches Eugene's heart the way that my beloved fiancé touched mine; of this woman, I ask only that she treat my son with the same love and devotion I would have bestowed upon my loving Jack, if time had been more kind.'_

It was signed and dated, but Alex couldn't make either signature nor date out through the blur of tears that spilled from her eyes as she bit down on her lip, looking up to Gene and searching for something, anything, though somehow she had no clue as to what this something might be. There was a moment where the blurred outline was stock still, and then he was in front of her, knelt between her legs with his large hands on either side of her face, thumbs wiping away the tears that slipped from her eyes. Her vision cleared slightly, the focus of her gaze suddenly those bright, glistening blue eyes that looked at her with such devotion that her whole body shivered.

"You ain't meant to cry you dozy tart," he murmured softly, his lips pressing to her forehead briefly before he pulled back again.

"But- how- how can you be sure? It might not be me she means at all! I'm- I'm just-" She looked scared, panicked, and he frowned, shaking his head.

"Alex," Gene murmured, cupping her chin and holding her gaze for a long moment, in which the only sound was the sharp inhalation of Alex's teary rasps. "I don't wanna let you go... that's all I need to know, alright?" He hesitated briefly, then added, "Well... that, and I thought you felt the same way..." At the last, doubt crept into his voice, edged with worry and fear as though he truly wondered whether he had been wrong, if she didn't feel that way at all.

"I do, Gene," she whispered, covering his hand with hers, and he couldn't question the sincerity in her voice; it dripped from each of the three syllables, and he could have sworn that, in that moment, he saw his whole life ahead of him. "I do," she repeated softly, "I love you, I do..."

He pressed a finger to her lips, eyes intense as he nodded, "Good... now shush, you daft cow." For a moment, he held his finger there, and then, when he saw that she wasn't going to say anything else, he pulled his hand away, digging in his pocket for a worn velvet box that was slightly tattered, the jewellers name having long-since faded from the soft covering. He flicked the lid carefully up, meeting her eyes and grasping her hand in his.

"I ain't asking you to marry me, Alex," he murmured, pressing his lips to her wedding finger almost wistfully when he saw the slight look of fear that dawned in Alex's eyes as he knelt, before continuing. "Just don't go making any plans to get hitched to anyone else, ok?" His eyes were nervous, and Alex could have sworn she felt his palm clamming with sweat, but it didn't shake the smile from her face as she nodded, swiping her spare hand at the tears that continued to trickle freely down her cheeks.

His fingers drew the ring from the box, trembling as he lifted her hand towards him. For a moment, he hesitated at the wedding finger, looking almost longingly at it, before he met her eyes, seeing the slight widening of her pupils before sliding the small ring down her middle finger and bringing the hand to his lips once more, kissing from fingertip down to her wrist without taking his eyes away.

As he rose up to sit beside her, he never once broke her gaze, nor did he even look unnerved – as she irrationally expected - as his arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her head in to rest on his shoulder. "You're sure you want me to have it?" Alex asked, her voice cracking momentarily at the thought of having the romantic sentiment wrenched away from her, but he nodded, completely confident, putting those momentary worries at ease.

"Positive," he said without trace of a doubt, pulling her into his lap and smiling slightly. There was a moment's hesitation, then he frowned, "I mean... s'long as you actually want it, then it's yours..."

Eyes bright, Alex leant forward, catching his lips with hers very briefly before whispering, "thank you," she whispered. For a moment, he said nothing, simply holding her gaze with a depth of feeling that would have floored her had she been on her feet; as it was, she could feel her whole body go weak as she leant forward, resting against him with a soft sigh.

He turned towards her, his mouth finding hers almost hesitantly, his hand tightening on her hip as his tentative lips caressed her own. She expected him to pull back at any moment, but instead he drew her closer, the softness of her lips a welcome distraction from the slight grief that the exchange had unhinged in his stomach; it seemed too final, almost as though he were giving up on his mother somehow... but he understood, as Alex responded to him, that this was what she had wanted- Maddie wanted him to be happy, to be loved, and being with Alex gave him that love and happiness, in a way he could never have imagined. And, unknowingly, she had provided him with a way of showing Alex, without the words that always caught in his throat, just how much she meant, how important she was to him...

He caught her lip between both of his, sucking lightly before swiping his tongue across her lip, silently requesting entry. There was something tender in the way she responded, in the warm welcome of her mouth and the gentle caress of her fingers as they danced across his shoulders and up the line of his neck; It was passionate –almost ground-breakingly so- but something beneath the surface was different. Their kisses were nearly always raw and lustful, and even though they had exchanged tender embraces in the past, the magnitude of this was different, on a completely different plain, and there was no need for the sexual expression that they might normally have progressed to.

There were no words needed, no confusion, no questions, and as she kissed him, her tongue tangling with his, he didn't doubt for so much as a second that he had made the right choice in giving her the ring.

---

They pulled apart a while later, lying down length-ways on the sofa and holding one another in a delicate embrace. Alex rested her left hand on Gene's chest, gazing at the ring in bewilderment whilst Gene closed his eyes, his breathing steady and warm on her face.

In the shafts of sunlight that broke through the blinds, the gold ring glittered, the sizeable ruby, which was set amongst twenty tiny diamonds, sending rays of light bouncing off in all directions. She was struck again by a powerful wave of emotion that threatened to bring tears once more to her eyes; it was beautiful, and perfect, and the fact Gene had given it to her so willingly, without needing once to question his decision, made her chest ache with joy. Yet again, though, she felt the wedge driving her away from Molly growing ever bigger, but this time, she couldn't bring herself to even consider leaving Gene's side; he needed her, and she knew, without having to contemplate it, that now she had experienced life so completely with this man, that now she had watched him endure pain beyond her comprehension and seen the depth of emotion he was truly capable of, and had felt the innate pull that drew her unquestionably towards him, she could never be without him. She knew now that she could never leave him without spending the rest of her existence being wracked with guilt and grief, that she needed him just as desperately as he seemed to need her... and as his arms tightened around her and his lips pressed gently to her temple, silent tears slid down her cheeks as her decision was made.

"Love you..." she whispered tearfully, and she couldn't be sure whether it was meant for Molly or for Gene, but as he tightened his hold on her, she knew it didn't matter.

"Yeah..." Gene murmured, his voice drowsy as he nuzzled her hair lightly with his nose. He yawned, almost as though he was just waking up, and then murmured, "I'll tell you someday... when all this is over..." he yawned again, his next words a barely decipherable mumble. "Tell you then..."

----

If Gene expected sunshine for his mother's funeral, he was sorely disappointed, but as he and Alex stood at the graveside, hands clasped together in the pouring rain, his clothes clinging to his body like a second skin, there was something almost fitting in the way the weather seemed to reflect his grief. As he watched his mother's coffin being lowered into the ground, and saw the raindrops hammering onto the wooden surface, glistening on the petals of the lily bouquet resting on the casket itself, it seemed right that it should be so, that he shouldn't feel pleasantly warmed and comfortable, that he should take this one, final opportunity to apologise, to remember, to give something back to her...

The priest's voice was lost to him, and all Gene was really aware of was the grief in his stomach and the warm reassurance that he found in Alex's hand. The rain poured, and he was glad that his tears were lost in the cascade that fell from the darkened sky, glad that he didn't have to fight back the stream of grief that poured forth from his heart. His breathing was laboured, his grip tightening on Alex's hand, and a moment after the priest had finished speaking she was stepping into the circle of his arms, her head resting below his chin as she too looked on at the heavy wooden casket.

A few people threw flowers onto the grave, and after a few moments, wherein Alex glanced up at him with hazel eyes full of sympathy and warmth, he brought the rose he held to his lips, brushing the petals lightly before tossing it onto the pile of flowers with a final wistful glance. A moment later, his face was in Alex's neck, the smell of rain, wet mud and shampoo all mingling in his nostrils as he breathed shakily, his breath hot against the coolness of her wet skin. Her left hand lifted to his cheek and he raised his head, catching her hand in his and eyeing the ring that seemed to shine out even in the dull, miserable weather. Having twined their fingers together, he kissed her knuckles briefly before pulling her to him, his mouth next to her ear as he spoke above the hammering rain and the roaring wind.

"You ain't goin' anywhere, are you?"

Alex shook her head, biting back tears as he squeezed her tightly, desperately, his voice cracking in her ears. "No Gene," she replied softly, "I'm not."

He nodded, holding her briefly, then slipping his hand into hers and drawing her away; as they passed the neighbouring grave, Alex stopped, eyes on the grey stone, her lip quivering. Gene turned, a strange dread gripping his stomach, before his gaze fell on the engraving that had yet to age. The tight knot in his stomach loosened, an unexpected smile dawning on his lips as he pulled Alex into his chest, lips pressing to her forehead.

"Guess some people just have to end up together," he murmured, watching as the rain cleared slightly and the crowd around his mother's grave thinned. He could feel Alex's frown as she looked up at him, but his eyes returned to the grave before them, lips twitching into a warm smile.

"Didn't you know?"

He shook his head, grinning to himself. "Hadn't a clue." Tugging her hand, he drew her away, only once glancing back over his shoulder towards his mother's grave, and that of her life-long love, imagining, for one fleeting moment of warmth, that he could see his mothers smiling face once more.

Alex caught his eye, glancing up at him through the spitting rain and squeezing his hand gently in hers. He returned the gesture, leading her away from the graves, his arm slipping around her waist and drawing her to his side. "Come on, love," he murmured, dipping his face to briefly capture her lips, "Let's go home."

----

**As always, many thanks to Feline over on TRA – she does a wonderful job making sure everything makes sense :)**

**Hope you liked it, and this period of angst is over now I swear :P**

**Mage of the Heart**


	25. Perfect Lover

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Just a bit of fluffiness to get rid of all that angst!!**

**Then back to the plot, honest!**

**---**

When they arrived back in London the next afternoon, it seemed inevitable that they should have to show their faces at CID in order to put forward their case to the Super, before returning to inevitable hustle and bustle on Monday morning.

As they stood outside the office, Gene dressed in his usual work outfit of shirt and tie, Alex in an off-the-shoulder top and jeans, she could feel the nerves emanating from his rigid frame, could see it in the white-knuckle clench of his fingertips on his arms as they waited for Superintendent Harrison to open the door and bestow upon them whichever punishment or down-talking he saw fit... For a brief moment, as she saw him rising from the desk through the pane of glass, Alex was aware of the inevitable déjà-vu of standing outside the Headmistresses office and waiting to be scolded for having allowed her knee-high socks to slip down to her ankles. To her side, she was dimly aware of Gene's look of concern in her direction, before the door opened and the formidable figure of their senior officer blocked the doorway.

A lump rose in Alex's throat as her teeth dug into the flesh of her lower lip, and she could only nod when he stepped aside, indicating the two wooden, uncomfortable chairs set before his desk, looking deathly ominous as she and Gene filed quietly into the room, following the Super's lead in remaining silent as they settled themselves into the hard, unwelcoming seats that had been set out for them.

----

James Harrison was forty-nine years old, with greying brown hair that was still thick and curly on the top of his worn yet still handsome face. Formidable lines had been etched into his cheeks and around his mouth, hardening the attractive exterior to create an image that would once, as Gene had heard many a time, have caused some of the roughest criminals to shake in their boots. His uniform was crisp and ironed, the sign of a man well looked after, and the wedding ring that glinted on his finger was the only suggestion that this man had any sentiment in his person.

His tie was neat, his blue blazer emphasized his broad shoulders, and his torso was trim and well-kept, with the white shirt tucked neatly into the waistband of his trousers. He carried himself with the air of a man who knew how to get what he wanted, and as Alex watched him settle himself into the leather office chair beside his desk, there was a small part of her that noted, with a glimmer of attraction, that he acted in much the same way as she had come to expect from Gene. She bit her lip again, half-embarrassed, half-amused, as Harrison leant forwards on his arms, his brown eyes both searching and accusing as he looked from one to the other of them.

She half expected Gene to fidget, to bring his hand to the back of his head as he sometimes did when he was embarrassed or nervous, or even to pull out a cigarette and begin smoking profusely... but instead he remained stock still, not exactly the depiction of relaxation, but by no means did he come across as a rabbit caught in the headlights, the way that she herself felt under the intense scrutiny of Harrison's hardened gaze.

"You've been gone for well over a week, Hunt," he said, and Alex bit back a smirk at the knowledge that, whilst this man might well carry some of Gene's physical demeanour, his voice didn't contain that same gruff quality that sent shivers done her spine. Startled by her own train of thought, and the knowledge that, whilst Harrison's statement was directed at Gene, his gaze remained firmly affixed on her, Alex blinked, looking nervously at Gene, whose lips were pressed together in a tight line. As she looked at him, she could practically see the cogs whirring in his brain as he fought to speak the truth without coming across as unprofessional, despite them both having known all the way home that their long absence, whilst being emotionally fair and reasonable, had been unprofessionally handled by both of them; for that, Alex felt that the blame fell squarely on her own shoulders, and gulped uncomfortably as Gene spoke.

"I'm sorry, Sir..." his voice was cracked, restrained, and Alex blinked, half expecting a torrent of explanation, but only raising her eyebrows slightly when none followed. There was a thoughtful hum from Harrison, and when Alex glanced up she saw that his gaze had moved to Gene, bearing into him intensely before he spoke again.

"Is there a reason for your sizeable absence? Or did the two of you simply take off on a whim, deciding that a holiday was just what you needed, and that London's Police force didn't need to know that two of its senior officers had popped off for a fiddle and a flutter?" His voice was unerringly calm, though Alex couldn't help but note the slight clench of Gene's jaw at his crude phrasing. She resisted the urge to quirk her eyebrow at him, seeing the way in which his grip tightened on the arm of the chair.

"I had a personal problem, Sir," Gene ground the words out as thought it was physically painful, and she had to stop herself reaching out to clasp his hand within her own, instead digging her own fingers into her thigh. "DI Drake was 'elping me deal with them... she's into all that Psychiatry balls, Sir..."

She bit back the inevitable 'psychology' remark, watching as Harrison eyed them both with disapproving eyes. "Your relationship's not secret in CID, you know?" He said eventually, glancing between them as though expecting them to blush; neither one of them did. Harrison waited, and then nodded, continuing on. "Since your public display in that little restaurant you're all so fond of, it's been the second most popular topic of conversation, beaten only by speculation as to whether DS Carling's penis really does bend slightly at the tip..."

The attempt at humour was lost, and Alex and Gene made no comment, although she remained positive that she saw Gene's jaw clench yet again, and looked down at the floor as Harrison went on. "Whatever personal issues you might have, DCI Hunt, you are a senior officer in the Metropolitan Police Force, and that entails demonstrating certain professionalism, whatever inconvenient circumstance you may find yourself in." His gaze moved back to Alex, a smirk tugging at his lips. "As for you, DI Drake, I see no real reason as to why your absence was necessary alongside your DCI's – were you able to rectify the problem, or were you simply providing a service?" His eyes were glinting, and before Alex had even opened her mouth to protest, Gene's voice sounded, a menacing growl that shocked her.

"She was there as my partner, Sir, not as my colleague, and her absence was down to me. I'd advise keeping that gob of yours shut when making comments about mine and DI Drake's personal relationships, when it's well known fact you're shaggin' WPC Milner after hours every night!" The acid in Gene's voice was terrifying, and the lack of respect – so very unlike him when it came to his superior officers – set off alarm bells. The black look in Harrison's eyes as he looked back at Gene was brimming with contemptuous loathing, but there was no denying that Gene's words had hit home, a brief flash of pain and panic breaking through, before Alex's eyes fell on his hands, the right of which was agitatedly twisting and fiddling with the gold ring on his wedding finger... Sentiment, she had thought at first – but not much, it would appear.

It took several moments before the Superintendent could speak again, but his cheeks were undeniably reddened as he spoke. "The fact of the matter is, whether sex was involved or not you absented yourselves from your public duty for well over a week, and made no attempt to contact the department!" Harrison's voice was sharp and harsh, his jaw tight, as though he were biting back several other vicious remarks. "I would be well within my rights to suspend you both, if I didn't think you'd simply while away the next month having sex and return like nothing had been amiss." His lips twitched cruelly as his gaze turned to Alex yet again, and she shivered. "So, for the time being, I think you'll do well with desk duty, Detective Inspector – no crime scenes, no forensics, nothing like that- just desk duty... for a month." His smirk wasn't missed as Alex bit down on her lip, nodding once in acknowledgement before angrily averting her eyes- it was like high school all over again. "And you, Chief Inspector..." Harrison's voice sounded again, but though he didn't address her any longer, Alex could feel his eyes still fixed on her as he said, "I'm afraid you'll have to deal with DI Drakes replacement for that time – long enough, I trust, that you'll learn to _ask_ for leave in future, instead of taking it on a whim..." There was a moment of silence, a moment where Alex could practically hear the roar of anger that was rising in Gene's chest, but no comment came forth, and Alex breathed a soft sigh of relief. A few seconds later, seconds that seemed to drag on for an eternity, Harrison nodded, "get out of my sight, both of you." He jerked his head towards the door dismissively. "Drake, there'll be a desk set up for you on this floor first thing Monday morning... Now leave."

They both gave terse nods, simultaneously rising from their chairs, Gene holding the door open for Alex and sending one final glower in Harrison's direction, before following her silently out of the room.

----

The moment they were safely down the corridor, Gene grabbed Alex's hand, pulling her out of the building at speed, just ahead of the CID crowd now filing through the building and headed inevitably towards Luigi's. They were back in the flat within five minutes, and Gene was physically shaking with anger.

"That smug little nancy deserves a machine gun shoved up his jacksy on full pelt!" He growled, slamming his fist into the wall as he kicked the door shut, his teeth gritted. "I swear to God, Alex, if he lays a hand on you I'll personally march over to his house and tell his wife about his fiddling with the-"

He was silenced as Alex pressed her lips up to his, mouth insistent and stubborn when he moved to pull back. He waited for her to relent, hands gripping her waist slightly, before he gave in and responded, pressing her to the door whilst his mouth softly moved with hers. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him closer, and though the phone rang out in the dark, quiet flat, they both ignored it, deepening the kiss so that the pressure of their mouths increased, the heat of the embrace instantly wiping away the chill of anger that had risen in Gene's throat and chest. The answer phone clicked on, just as Gene's hand found its way beneath her top, caressing the warm skin of her back with chilled fingers, feeling her shiver against him.

A voice sounded on the tape as Alex's hands slid to begin unbuttoning his shirt, opening up a large V so that her hands could run freely over the planes of his shoulders, caressing the familiar lines of his collarbone with tender fingers, sighing and murmuring into his kiss...

"Ah, Mister Hunt-" the disembodied voice was oddly loud, causing Alex to jump slightly before allowing Gene to press her harder against the wall, forgetting the interruption as his tongue tangled around hers. A moment later, the voice on the answer phone was accompanied by a soft whine that resonated from the kitchen, and was followed by the slight patter of paws on the tiled surface before Fitz leapt onto the sofa, eyeing the answering machine with his head cocked to one side. Gene pulled away from Alex with a growl of annoyance, his hands still on her waist as he debated how best to reprimand the whining dog for the intrusion on their privacy. A frown settled into the lines of his face as the voice continued on, and a moment later his annoyance turned into happiness.

"It's Alan Green – the estate agent? I'm just calling to let you know that your house is ready and- well, the keys are here if you want to come and pick them up..." There was a brief pause, as though he was thinking what else to say. Alex had gone rigid with anticipation, and when Gene glanced back at her she was grinning with disbelief and wonderment. He snorted, just as Mr Green brought an abrupt end to the message with an awkward 'that's all...goodbye'. The machine beeped, then fell silent, and a moment later Gene was grinning, kissing Alex with a blissful intensity, remaining naive and unsure as to who had initiated it, but uncaring as he felt her lips spread wide in a joyous smile to match his own. He chuckled, slipping his tongue into her mouth and gripping her tightly to his chest before pulling away, his mouth twitched into an irrepressible smile that would not be wiped away, even as he attempted to calm himself.

"Alex," he said softly, cupping her face in two large, rough, and yet warm hands, his eyes burning with emotion. "Move in with me tonight."

She stared at him in disbelief, her eyebrows threatening to disappear as they leapt up her forehead. "Tonight?" She said, "With no furniture, no clothes, no food, no bed... you want to move in tonight?"

He nodded, grinning absurdly, unable to stop himself. "Yeah... tonight; just me, you, that oaf of a dog over there, an airbed and a bottle o' wine..." he kissed her briefly, mouth warm and soft, and then, with a voice so quiet it was barely audible above the hitch of her breath, he spoke. "New start, Alex- you and me... Please?"

Alex met his eyes, biting her lip nervously before sending him a coy smile, followed by a small nod. "Yes."

He grinned, pulling her into him and kissing her fiercely, tongue duelling with hers. When he finally pulled away, his hand cupped the back of her head, breath brushing over her face. "Come on; let's go get the keys, 'ey?"

Alex laughed, but shook her head. "No, you get the keys; I'll sort out the duvet and things..."

Gene looked at her blankly, and she snorted. "Gene, be practical; go and get the keys, then come and pick me up, ok?" She pressed a kiss to his lips fleetingly, and then pulled back, still smiling. Gene's mouth twitched slightly as he nodded, and, after stealing yet another kiss, he stepped back out of the door, his footsteps echoing up the stairwell as he raced towards the car.

Giddy with excitement and joy, Alex stumbled through to the bedroom, a smile on her lips as she changed the duvet and pillow covers, before folding them up on the sofa. Fitz, looking huge in the small flat, bounded over in one movement, excitedly yapping at her heels as she collected up his basket and the chew toys he had managed to strew all across the small living room in the space of two hours. She rolled her eyes at him, smiling, and then moved to collect some fresh clothes from the bedroom.

----

When Gene returned almost an hour and a half later, Alex was sitting in the kitchen, absently stroking Fitz on the head and still smiling quietly to herself. She didn't even realize he was there until he leant down to kiss her cheek, his hand ruffling Fitz's fur before he twisted her face towards him, eyes soft and warm.

"Sorry I took so long," he murmured, briefly stroking her cheek with his long, elegant fingers. "Took bloody ages to find an airbed, an' then they wanted me bollucks on a silver platter for it!"

"I hope you didn't concede defeat and hand them over," Alex teased, eyes glinting mischievously. Gene bit back a groan, and then shook his head.

"Nah... Bloke behind the counters shaggin' the corner shop lady when 'is Missus is away... got it for free." He grinned, pulling her to her feet and gently brushing his lips across her cheek. "Pump only cost a fiver an' all..."

"Mmm... I worry about how you find out about all of these affairs out you know," Alex murmured, pressing her mouth to his neck and sucking briefly, feeling him sigh slightly. "You're not cheating on me, are you?"

"You'd know if I was, Alex... Snouts ain't exactly fond of me, just of keeping their arses outta jail..." his voice was matter-of-fact, and Alex smiled against him. Her mouth continued to assault his neck until he had to respond, drawing her away from him with a reluctant sigh and shaking his head. "Not here," he murmured, stroking her cheek fondly. "Wait... it'll be better if we wait... Please, Alex..." his voice was weak, and his body was responding all too well to the feel of her so close to him, but she pulled away, hearing the effort, the sincere meaning behind it, and meeting his eyes calmly. He stroked his fingers through her hair, twirling loose wisps around his digits as he went on softly. "It's been so long..." he murmured, kissing her wistfully on the forehead, "so long..." His voice was filled with a longing that had been absent for over a week, and Alex felt her stomach melting in response, her arms wrapping tighter around his back.

"I know," she whispered, kissing his pulse lightly.

His hold tightened around her, his lips in her hair, and for a few moments nothing was said, both content in the warmth of their embrace. It was Fitz's small whine that brought them both back to earth, and they sighed. Gene's voice was gentle in her ear as he spoke next, lips teasing lightly as he whispered, "Come on then, Lady Bols; we've got a house to move into."

----

With Fitz in the back of the car with his basket alongside, and the boot piled high with a bag of clothes, the bedding, and a crate of bottles that Gene managed to scrounge from Luigi for a ridiculously small sum of money, they barely paused for breath until they were parked up on the driveway of their new house, Gene's impatience evident as he gripped the wheel tight at each corner, grinding his teeth and tapping his fingers lightly.

It took several minutes for the reality of the situation to sink in, for the belief that this was really going to become their home to penetrate their minds. When it did, Gene reached over to squeeze Alex's thigh, smirking slightly before slapping her leg and getting out of the car. When Alex joined him a minute later, having recovered from her sense of wonderment, he was leaning casually against the bonnet, a cigarette smoking between his lips as he glanced thoughtfully at the door. Alex stood next to him, settling herself into his chest with a sigh and smiling as him arm slid around her waist, the smell of tobacco warm in her nostrils as he exhaled.

"Wanna do the honours, Bollinger Knickers?" he murmured, looking down at her with softness in his gaze. The cigarette in his mouth dangled slightly as he removed his hand, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a pair of shimmering gold keys, which he offered to her on the tip of his finger.

Alex reached out hesitantly, taking them in her hand but doing nothing as he took the cigarette between his fingers once more, taking one deep drag before nuzzling at her ear, the smoky haze leaving his lips and brushing warmly and wispily across the skin of her neck. She shivered, turning her gaze to meet his as he smiled down at her, taking another drag as she playfully slapped at his arm. "I'm going to stink," she complained softly. Gene smirked, blowing smoke in her face without remorse, even as she fanned it away with her hand and grimaced in disgust.

"Stuck with it now, love," he murmured, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with his foot while, at the same time, pulling Alex closer into his chest, lips descending on hers without hesitance. "You gunna open up that door then?" he asked when they finally pulled apart. Alex smiled, nodding her head and taking his hand in hers.

"Yes, and you're going to help me," she said, pulling him towards the door. Gene grinned, settling behind her, his arms around her waist, as she slipped the key into the lock. His hand reached out to cover hers, lips falling to her neck and moving up to her cheek as the key twisted to the right, the click of the lock going unheard as he twisted her around, mouth ensnaring hers in a warm kiss that caused her to melt into his chest. His arms snaked around her, holding her with a strength that made her knees wobble and her breath catch, but a moment later he pulled away, looking particularly self-satisfied, and yet simultaneously open.

"Welcome home," he whispered, eyes warm and full of emotion. Alex's teeth toyed with her lip as she blushed under his heated gaze, eyes staying locked with his nonetheless as they pushed the door open and stepped inside.

----

They walked round only once, their hands clasped together as they went, before they returned to the car, eagerly emptying its contents and carrying it into the empty living room. When Fitz was let out, he raced through the open front door and into the house without so much as a second's hesitation, whilst Gene laughed softly, unloading the basket and dogs toys from the backseat while keeping one arm firmly around Alex, who was holding the bag of clothes and toiletries in one hand, whilst the other rubbed gently up Gene's back. He led her in, dropping the basket and drawing the bag from her hand as he pulled her into his embrace, mouth warm and hospitable.

"Pick a bottle," he murmured softly, eyes still half closed as he pulled away. "I'll get the bed sorted."

----

There were no glasses, so they curled up on the airbed in the main bedroom, passing a bottle of wine between them and taking large gulps from the bottle. By ten o'clock, Alex was pleasantly tipsy, leaning her head on Gene's shoulder and giggling as he uncorked the third bottle of the night with his teeth, spitting it aside and dipping to catch her mouth with his own.

"Could get used to this," he murmured, taking a large swig of wine as his hand stroked down her face, handing the bottle over with a smile. Alex took it, sipping for a few moments, and then tapping him lightly in the chest with the bottle itself.

"You're a big softie underneath it all," she said, smiling up at him with shining eyes. Gene shifted slightly, pulling her slightly closer and raising an eyebrow, the duvet that had been pulled up to his armpit falling to his waist as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Soft, 'ey?" He murmured, prying the bottle from her fingers and taking a large swig for himself. His lips brushed up her neck, across her jaw and over her forehead, before he spoke again, his voice gravelly and rough. "Forgotten it already, 'ave you?"

Alex grinned, pressing her mouth to his neck, lips open as she sucked and nibbled lightly at the sensitive skin. "I don't know what you're talking about, Gene," she murmured, drawing back with a devilish grin when his spare hand moved to cover her arse, the other reaching behind her to place the bottle down on the floor. The action brought his body across hers, his weight pressing her down into the airbed as he brought both hands to her face, fingers gentle and tender as they trailed over her neck and chest.

"S'funny..." Gene murmured, kissing the hollow at the base of her throat before moving up towards her ear, "I can't seem to forget..." His tongue sought the soft shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine as one hand teased beneath the hem of her shirt. "You're perfect, Alex," he murmured, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek briefly on hers, whispering in her ear lightly and feeling the raw emotion that flowed between them. "Never wanna lose you..." his lips were gentle as they traced hers, movements slow and assured before he pulled away, whispering quietly, "I can't lose you..."

"You won't." Her touch on his face was cool, the metal of his mothers ring prominent as she met his eyes with her own. "Yours... only yours..." When her lips brushed his, he nodded, cupping the back of her head and searching her eyes with his penetrating gaze.

"I- I lo-..." he trailed off, looking away and blinking furiously, before whispering, eyes returned to hers, "I'm lost, Alex." His gaze was serious and hard, and Alex couldn't tear herself away for as much as a second. "I'm completely, totally lost to you... an'- an' I can't let you go... I won't..."

She shook her head, lifting herself up onto her elbows and speaking softly, eyes shimmering as her breath brushed across his cheek. "Wouldn't ask you to... wouldn't let you, either, come to think of it..." For a moment, they both stared, Gene's chest rising and falling heavily, Alex's lips parted in anticipation, before suddenly they were embracing –not violently or fiercely, but with a depth of feeling that somehow made the insubstantial airbed seem like luxury, and made the scantily furnished room a five-star hotel; it was perfect, and as their mouths met and their tongues tangled, there was no denying it, no resistance whatsoever- it wasn't needed.

In moment's, Gene's shirt had been pushed eagerly from his shoulders by Alex's confident hands, whilst her top had been pulled from her and dropped aside, followed closely by the thin, sheer fabric of her lacy bra. His lips trailed down to her breasts, hands searching out the fastening on her jeans whilst he covered one taut nipple with his mouth, suckling and licking as Alex's hands pushed down on the back of his head, holding him close to her chest and sighing her pleasure, just as he eased her jeans and knickers down her thighs.

"Missed you," Gene murmured, pulling his mouth away from her breast and kissing slowly down her stomach. "Forgot how good you feel... s'been so long... He reached the triangle between her thighs, pressing soft kisses to her pelvic bone as he drew the remaining garments from her body, placing them next to him before planting an open kiss to her thigh, sucking and licking lightly as he revelled in the sweet sounds of breathless pleasure that escaped Alex's lips. He swiped his tongue tenderly across Alex's centre, feeling her shivers of pleasure, the taste of her body exquisite on the tip of his tongue; it was too much to take. A moment later he was rising up the length of her body once again, lips tracing every inch of skin as he went, before their mouths met once more, his breath heavy.

"Can't wait anymore," he murmured, kissing her cheek softly. "Need you, Alex... Always... want you..."

Alex slipped her hands to his belt, unbuckling it quickly and pushing the trousers and boxers down his legs. "Have me..." she whispered in his ears. "I'm yours, Gene... if you want me, I'm all yours..."

A chuckle resonated in his throat as he kicked off his clothes and pushed his hips against hers, lips suckling on her earlobe briefly before he whispered his reply, smiling to himself. "Always want you, Alex... Never have enough... Always you... Nobody else..." He shifted his weight, lifting her hips up with his hands, mouth still paying homage to her neck and skin as he entered her smoothly, his groan of delight loud in the quiet room. They both stilled, breath brushing across bare skin as the familiar feeling of intimacy, of being so closely conjoined with one another, swept over them. Gene's kisses were soft and gentle on her skin, feather light caresses that made her shiver and sigh. When his hips thrust gently against her, Alex moaned, pushing upwards with her pelvis and kissing his chest reverently as he slowly moved within her.

The heat of her, the smell, the taste on his lips and the sound of her voice, were like perfection. Gene had forgotten, amidst the grief of losing his mother, just how good Alex made him feel. He had of course known, amidst his mourning, just how lucky he was, how very blessed he had to be to have her offering him sanctuary in the haven of her arms, but he hadn't realized how much he missed this; this, the simple wonder of knowing that the woman beneath him was willing, wonderful, and probably the closest to heaven he could hope for.

Her mouth sought his once more, her hips urging harder up at him, silently requesting more, the soft moan that left her throat swallowed up by the heat of their embrace. Gene pulled away, tangling one hand in Alex's hair as his slow thrusts became deeper, harder, eliciting gasps of delight from Alex as he gazed down at her glistening body; she was beautiful. It still struck him, every time, that he had done nothing in this life to merit such good fortune; the soft line of her lips, the deep hazel of her eyes that brimmed with emotion that he neither deserved nor could comprehend... It shook him to the core, and as he moved within her, he could not have torn his gaze from her for anything.

"You feel so good..." he murmured, closing his eyes briefly as she rolled her hips against his, causing him to go rigid as a board as he held back his release with a choked gasp before continuing, slower, more gently... "Perfect..." he whispered, "Never enough... always want more... always want you..." a groan left his lips, sweat beading on his brow and trickling down his face as he continued to whisper to her, his words sweet, quiet concessions of sentiment that echoed in Alex's ears as she looked up at him, her pleasure at their union combining with a strong, overwhelming rush of love as he moved inside her, his thrusts growing deeper, stronger, rocking her body with delight.

"Beautiful..." Gene gasped, his hand tightening on her waist and head as his speed increased. "Never been like this..." His lips traced the lines of her face, mouth whispering across her cheekbones and lips as he continued speaking. "Nobody else... just you... Alex..." He caught her mouth gently, sucking on her lower lip briefly before letting out a soft breath, before kissing her more deeply, the hand that rested on her hip sliding between their slick bodies and searching for the sensitive bud of nerves that lay nestled between her thighs.

"My Alex..." he murmured, pinching and caressing her clitoris until she was writhing and whimpering beneath him, his mouth clamping down on her neck as a groan of lust shook his body, her channel clamping down on him as she shook with orgasm, tearing his release from him. His final thrusts were erratic and hard, each one punctuated with a loud, possessive growl of "mine." The last exclamation was loud and rough, and as he released and collapsed on top of her, he was shocked by his own raw honesty in the depths of passion. He rolled aside, pulling her into his chest, lips in her hair as his voice dropped once more to a soft whisper.

"Just you," he said, stroking her back with his long fingers, feeling her shiver and press closer to him. "Always gunna be you, Alex..."

She turned her face up to him, her hand cupping his face as she spoke, eyes locked onto his. "I love you, Gene," she whispered, tracing her thumb across his mouth. He was still, his jaw tight as he met her gaze, and then nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah," he murmured tiredly, resting his forehead on hers, "that's what I wanted to say..." His arms went around her waist, tugging her into his chest as he closed his eyes, nuzzling lightly at her hair as he added, softly, "like living with you already, Alex."

Alex smiled, "me too, Gene... Go to sleep."

"Mmm... yeah... 'kay..." he kissed her sweetly, before pulling away, waiting several minutes before speaking. "I do though, Alex..." he yawned, holding her tighter. "Y'know that, don't yer?"

She nodded, tears pricking at her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, "I know."

----

When Alex awoke, it was to find a heavy weight sprawled across her stomach, and Gene's hands tenderly caressing her cheek. Fitz looked up at her contentedly, apparently bored of his basket downstairs, his head resting on her hip, whilst his tail thumped repeatedly on Gene's side of the bed.

"Morning," she murmured, meeting Gene's eyes and feeling her stomach flip slightly at the disarray that was his hair in the early light of morning, and the slight puffiness of his eyes. In the grey, dim light, the blue irises shone back at her, intense and warm, and Alex's mouth slipped into a smile of true happiness as Gene's lips ghosted over hers.

"Mornin'," he replied, tangling a stray lock of hair around his fingers.

"Your dog's squashing the air out of my lungs..." Alex said, giving Fitz a light shove in the ribs. He didn't move, except to briefly lap his tongue at her hand, and then continue thumping his tail as though nothing had happened.

Gene grinned, slapping the dog's sides playfully and ruffling the fur until it stood on end. "Good dog," he crooned jokingly, earning a slap on the arm from Alex as she gasped her indignation. He looked as though he were about to say something, but stopped, laughing softly as he reached behind Alex's head and drew away the skimpy knickers she had been wearing the previous evening. "Nice," he muttered, grinning. "Attractive... really... d'you always sleep on yer knickers, Alex?"

Alex snatched them from his fingers, blushing and tossing the offending garment over the side of the bed. "It's your fault!" She argued.

Gene nodded, still smiling. "I'm not complaining, Bols, just wonderin' if I should put me boxers on my head an' all." After another slap, he laughed again, lifting Fitz by the hind legs and pushing him down the bed as he rolled to lie above Alex. "Don't worry," he murmured, lips tracing her pulse and twitching into a smile. "Any time you fancy fannyin' about with yer knickers on yer head jus' let me know... It's sorta givin' me the 'orn thinking about it..."

"Mmmm..." Alex sighed, stroking his back with gentle fingers. "You're as bad as Fitz, you know?"

"How so?" Gene murmured, hands cupping her breast lightly, and Alex found it momentarily difficult to breathe.

"Oh you know... completely incorrigible – a walking sack of testosterone... shagging at every available opportunity..." Alex trailed off as Gene chuckled, his fingers running down her bare torso as his breath tickled the skin of her neck.

"Too right," he murmured, still chuckling, "Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do..." His lips traced up to her face, tenderly brushing hers before he rolled his hips against her leg.

"Mmm... maybe..." Alex's mouth found his jaw, nibbling and sucking lightly before she murmured, "But I think the dogs knackers will have to go..."

The result was instantaneous; the hard length of his erection, which was previously pressed firmly into Alex's thigh, was gone, and Gene rolled quickly away from her to the other side of the bed, looking horrified. "You what?" His voice had risen an octave, and Alex snorted.

"Gene, he mounts every female dog within a ten mile radius! Some owners don't want their dog to be impregnated by-"

"Yer can't cut the poor buggers bits off!" Gene retorted, and Alex caught the wince that flashed across his face, laughing as his hand instinctively cupped his crotch in a protective gesture.

"I'm not asking you to get rid of yours!" Alex giggled, rolling onto her side and reaching out to touch his arm. Gene shifted slightly backward, shaking his head and glancing over to Fitz, who sat, apparently oblivious, looking up at Alex with his tail wagging enthusiastically, head resting on his paws. "I just don't think you'd be too happy with numerous half-breed puppies underfoot Gene, but if you're sure then-"

"I ain't sayin' he should slip all of 'em a quickie in the street," Gene argued, "just that a blokes only a bloke when he's got his- y'know..." he waved a hand in his crotch area, "when it's all in tact down 'ere..."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Do you ever want to be breeding puppies, Gene?"

"Well, no, but it don't change the fact that-"

He was interrupted as Alex held up a hand. "Fine, he can keep them-" she rolled onto her back and shrugged, "but next time he leaps on some poor unsuspecting bitch-"

"There's no need to be nasty, Alex-"

"-and gives her a little puppy to look after, then you can explain to the poor dogs owner that you couldn't bear to see your friend separated from his little 'minions'!" At the last, she waggled her fingers, and Gene visibly shuddered. "And then," Alex went on, "you can find homes for the fifty mongrel puppies that nobody will want." Her eyebrows rose, as though daring him to argue, and Gene ground his jaw.

"It ain't natural." He said stiffly, pulling on his boxers as though in an effort to protect himself from Alex's determination. "You've got a meat an' two veg for a reason; it'd be like.... like bangers an' mash, but without the mash, and with just the banger..."

"Sounds perfectly acceptable to me," Alex smirked, waggling her eyebrows seductively. "Nothing wrong with a good... _banger_..." The emphasis caused Gene to groan, rolling off the bed away from Alex and grinning slightly as it sagged beneath her.

"You want me sausage Bols, you can't cut off his veggies," he jerked his head at Fitz, who yapped briefly before rolling onto his back. Alex was grinning, the duvet falling to her waist as she sat up, breasts clearly displayed and providing an all too prominent distraction as Gene stared blankly.

"That's fine, Gene, I can wait..." her lips quirked again as she murmured suggestively, "but can you?"

His eyes remained firmly fixed on her breasts, and it was only when Alex cleared her throat that he blinked, meeting her eyes with mild disinterest. "What'd you say?" His gaze returned to her chest after barely a second.

With a victorious smile on her lips, Alex through the covers over a disgruntled looking Fitz and sat back, eyebrows raised invitingly. "How long can you wait, Gene? I might well spend the whole day _wiggling_, and _jiggling_, and _twirling_, completely butt-naked..." she chewed her lip thoughtfully, then smiled, standing up and moving towards the door. "I think I'll go and dust the living room floor – do we have curtains yet?"

Gene's eyebrows flew upwards, and then he was across the room in three strides, pinning her to the wall with a soft growl. "Not fair, Alex," he murmured, pressing his mouth hard against her neck. "Not my fault you look shaggable as hell..."

"And I shall continue to be thoroughly un-shaggable whilst that dog maintains his 'vegetables'." Gene groaned as, once again, she did that annoying quotation mark thing with her fingers, looking away as he sighed.

"Y'know Bols, in some places dogs bollucks are sacred- rude to cut off sacred goods-"

"Is this because you're scared of me threatening to emasculate you as well?" Alex laughed, her eyes full of amusement. "Because there's really no danger of that – I quite like your whole package."

Gene met her eyes, narrowed slightly, and then nodded. "Fine." He conceded eventually. "Do it... But only if I get to name our first kid whatever I fancy... and I'll warn you now that Gary Baldy Hunt is looking bloody good!"

Alex blinked, staring at him in surprise and shock, but he was already at the bottom of the bed, stroking Fitz's head in a conciliatory gesture, murmuring sympathetically as the unsuspecting hound leapt onto Gene's chest, licking enthusiastically at his cheek.

----

**Huge thanks to Feline, as ever :-D**

**And the plot shall return next chapter, I sincerely promise :P**

**Mage of the Heart**


	26. The Fallen Interlude

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Many apologies for the wait – writers block has seriously been weighing me down, but I do hope its worth the wait, although if you're expecting smut, you'll be disappointed, since it shall be plot this time :-)**

**Hope you like it!**

**---**

The weekend passed in something of a haze as they worked amongst the hustle and bustle of moving to make their new home more presentable; hours were spent selecting new furniture and arranging what they already had so that they were both satisfied, and although Alex thought at times that she caught Gene looking at her almost longingly, in amongst it all, there was barely enough time to think, let alone breach the topic of children with him...

In some ways, she knew she should be grateful for the distraction; was she ready, at this stage, to even consider having children with Gene? In her mind, children and marriage went hand-in-hand, and though she wore Gene's ring with pride and not so much as an ounce of regret, it was not an engagement ring, and the idea of marrying him was, at this point, a barely visible image in the fairly distant future.

Children, however? She couldn't deny that, occasionally, in the murky depths of her most private daydreams, she had thought about it. More than once, the wonderment had crossed her mind; would they be blonde, like Gene? Would they have his blue eyes or would they take after her and adopt the hazel colour of her own? Would they be as strong and silent as their father was, or as stubborn and feisty as she herself?

But it scared her, deep down. Would accepting Gene so intimately, fathering his children as she had with Peter, mean that she was replacing Molly? Could she really bring herself to do that, when, despite having made her decision to stay, she was still tied so strongly to her little girl in 2008? It nagged at her mind as he held her in their new bed, it teased at her thoughts as he made love to her on the sofa, and as she walked into CID on Monday morning and left her outside Harrison's office, pressing a soft goodbye kiss to her lips, it burrowed into her consciousness and swore to claw at her consciousness for the rest of the day.

She would sit filing reports, ordering statements and scribbling case notes, but when she ran out of things to do and inwardly refused to ask the Superintendent for more work, her mind drifted to the fantasy scene of Gene, playing in their new garden with a slightly older Fitz, and two young children running after him, their faces full of adoration and happiness, his full of laughter and joy... but as much as it made her heart ache with love, and as much as she longed for it to be reality, there still remained something wrong with that image, something wrong with the knowledge that there was no Molly reprimanding her younger siblings or dutifully spoiling them with sweets and biscuits, lining their pockets with Mars bars and-

"Drake, you appear to be dawdling." The cool drawl of Superintendent Harrison splintered the mental picture into millions of shards of shattered glass, snapping Alex from her reverie and causing her to jump in her seat. He was leant in front of her, blazer discarded and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie loose and hair scruffy, and he was smirking like a man who had just been granted unlimited solo access to a strip club. "I assume you've filed the notes on the Autumn Road theft in chronological order?"

"Yes, Sir," Alex said stiffly, handing said file over with a self-satisfied smirk. Harrison flicked through it, pursing his lips in annoyance for a few moments, and then tossing the file aside, reaching for the next one with a hard-set jaw. Each file, when found to be meticulously ordered, was thrown to the desk again, with the resounding slap of the file getting increasingly louder as his frustration mounted.

"Fine..." He said finally, grinding his teeth. "My desk needs cleaning- hop to it, Drake."

The look of profound disgust on Alex's face did not need re-iterating, so with a terse nod she shoved her chair back, storming into Harrison's office and gritting her jaw tight at the sight of his desk, which looked as though it had been hit by a bomb especially for her; paper was strewn on the floor, pen caps littered the desk, spare ties were tossed over a stack of files which were spilling everywhere, and a newspaper poked out of the lower drawer of the desk as though it had been shoved away in a hurry.

"Slob!" Alex hissed to herself, angrily gathering up the pen lids and capping the loose pens before throwing them into the desk tidy. She piled up the loose stacks of paper, ordered files on the desk and picked up the loose ties to toss them all over the arm of the chair. She was quick and efficient, refusing to be reduced to working like a cleaner for any longer than she had to be, and was back at her desk within half an hour, looking persistently smug when Superintendent Harrison re-entered the room and glanced questioningly in her direction. After spending fifteen minutes apparently scrutinising his office – Alex was certain she saw him lifting up the bin and looking under the desk as if she might have thrown something there for her own amusement- he returned, gruffly dismissing her for lunch.

Alex wasted no time – she was out of the office barely more than a second later and without warning she was jerked into strong, black clad arms that tugged her firmly into a blue fabric that smelt strongly of cigarettes, alcohol and aftershave; her stomach flipped, just as Gene's lips found her forehead, his strong intake of air loud in her ears as he inhaled her smell, one hand slipping to her lower back as he sighed into her hair.

"You still smell like Bolly," he muttered, his voice edged with protectiveness, but overwhelmingly relieved. Alex creased her eyebrows into a frown as she looked up at him, confused.

"Why would I smell of anything _but_ Bolly?"

Gene chuckled without humour. "'cause you're a woman an' he's a bloke, and you look fucking delectable in that bloody dress." He pressed his mouth firmly to hers, briefly asserting his possession of her, before grabbing her hand and leading her sharply away. "Been out 'ere for a good 'alf hour waiting for you," he muttered. "Couldn't come in, so 'ad to bloody stand about like a spare part while everyone else came and went..." Gene sighed, leading her down the stairs of CID and out into the street, towards the Quattro, hand still firmly holding onto hers.

Alex said nothing, waiting as he pulled her firmly along behind him, until he stopped at the car, turning sharply and cupping her face. "Sophia Merlot – you remember her?" Gene's voice was quiet, hard, and tinged with anger, but the name rang no bells whatsoever.

"Who?" She asked, bewildered.

Gene rolled his eyes. "The girl from the pub- shagging Jeremy McKellen? That Jessie bird Granger found out about – her real names Sophia Merlot, remember?"

Eyes flashing with recognition, Alex nodded. "Yes, yes, of course... what about her?"

"Her brother – Ciaran – got caught up in a drugs bust last year, but got off 'cause there wasn't enough proof to pin 'im down.... Shaz checked 'im out – innocent as pie other than that, but guess where 'e goes to school?"

Alex stared, not daring to hope, "he didn't..?"

Gene nodded. "Rosa McKellen's," he said softly. "In 'er class, too..." He hesitated, and then muttered, "Alex, I know yer ain't meant to be doing any field work, but it won't feel right if you ain't on the case with all that psycho-bollucks..."

Alex laughed, stroking his cheek lightly. "You're thinking far too much about the rules you know- anybody would think you were a law-abiding citizen..." Grinning, she pressed a kiss lightly to his stubbled cheek, whispering a small, breathy, "yes", as she did so.

Gene smirked, tugging her closer and tilting her face up so their eyes locked. "Good..." his eyes flickered upwards for a second, his jaw tightening, before his hand was in her hair, his mouth an inch from hers. "Kiss me, Alex, and make it count- if the Super thinks I'm taking you anywhere other than fer a shag we'll both be on our arses before you can say 'bollucks'."

Alex smirked, tugging hard on his tie so that his chest was tighter against her. "Oh, I'm sure I can convince him." Her mouth was on his a moment later, devouring and fierce, full of passion and lust that couldn't be fabricated. Gene groaned, forgetting himself as his hands found the cheeks of her arse, grinding his hips into hers before twisting them around, her back flush against the Quattro as one hand slid beneath her dress, stroking her arse, whilst the other reached up without thought to cup her breast through the fabric of her clothes. It was only when she moaned, her leg wrapping around his, that he dragged his mouth away, gasping and flushed.

"Jesus, Alex, are you trying to convince _me_ an' all? I don't want to talk to the scruff bugger with a dick like a flagpole!" He spoke into her cheek, and when he was done began fiercely kissing her neck, sucking and biting, leaving a red mark as his hand found the door handle, yanking the passenger side open and pushing Alex through it, before gathering his coat around himself surreptitiously to hide the large erection visible in his trousers. If the Super wasn't convinced by that, he couldn't think of a reason why; Gene himself was half-tempted to postpone interviewing the little git just so he could fuck his woman senseless.

"Right," he grunted, carefully shifting to make his position in the driving seat more comfortable. "Now you've given me a bloody great stiffy in me trousers, you better say something completely horrific so I don't go into this school looking like a pervert with a happy-stick!"

"A 'happy-stick'?" Alex snorted, covering her mouth as she laughed at him. Gene glowered across at her, eyes narrowed as he turned the key in the ignition and started the engine, easily slipping the car out of its parking space.

"Something un-sexy, Alex- nothing to do with my ruddy great boner!" His tone was tight and clipped, and Alex, her mind still full of thoughts of children and Molly and Gene and family, said the first thing that came to her head.

"I'm pregnant."

The slam of his foot on the brakes and the squeal of the wheels on the road as the car skidded to a halt, were both drowned out as he turned his face to hers, wild exhilaration mixed with utter fear and incomprehension.

"You're bloody what?" He asked, apparently uncaring that he had stopped the car in the centre of the street and the Cortina behind them was honking wildly, the elderly man shaking his fist at them from the front seat.

Alex stared back at him, mouth moving, but no sound coming out, as she tried to make sense of his reaction; by all accounts he looked as genuinely delighted as any father-to-be she'd ever met... more so, perhaps, than Peter had been, and... She shook her head, backpedalling and swallowing hard before speaking again. "No, I'm not... Start the car, Gene."

He was still staring at her, though now the wild excitement had been replaced by a mellow disappointment that twisted at Alex's stomach.

"You're not pregnant?" His tone reeked of regret, and Alex gulped, unsure what to do with herself, briefly contemplating placing a consoling hand on his arm, before deciding otherwise, instead choosing to keep her hands together, wringing her fingers in her lap as she shook her head and answered him.

"No, Gene, I'm not pregnant."

"But you-"

"Gene, it was just the first thought that came to my head – don't you remember telling me there's nothing less sexy than a fertile woman?" Gene looked at her blankly, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Look, it doesn't matter- I'm not pregnant. Please could you start the car?" Her eyes were apologetic and pleading both at once, and Gene set the car in gear again, drawing away slowly and ignoring the constant peeping of the Cortina behind them. There was a few minutes silence, before he spoke again, his voice dry and nervous.

"Y'know, Bols, I wouldn't have a problem if you-"

"Gene, really, now's not the time for us to talk about children, and besides, if-"

"No, Alex," he said glancing across at her with nervous eyes. "I'd like it... someday." There was a moment of indecision, a flash of fear in the depths of his blue eyes, but a moment later he was looking back at the road, stock still and silent.

Awkwardly, Alex toyed with the necklace at her throat, absently tracing it with her fingers before murmuring, "do you still need a hand with the-?"

"Nah, it's fine, I'll just... I dunno... maybe I'll just think of Maggie Thatcher doing a lap dance in a leopard print thong or something..."

Alex bit her lip, looking across at him surreptitiously, seeing the shudder that went through him which said the mental image was having the right effect, but also noting the slight grit of his jaw, feeling a sharp stab of pain in her stomach at the knowledge that he looked genuinely upset. "Gene, it was just a joke, I wasn't-"

"D'you want kids?" He asked suddenly, shifting the gear and briefly flitting his eyes across to look at her. "I mean, again... after Molly..." He slammed his foot on the accelerator in annoyance, and immediately shook his head, as though clearing it of confusion. "I mean, obviously after Molly, 'cause you already had her, but I mean, d'you want-?"

"Stop," Alex murmured, looking out of the window with tears in her eyes. "Please, Gene... now really, really isn't the time for us to-"

"So no, then?" he managed, flexing his fingers against the wheel until Alex could hear them crack. She grimaced, and then looked down at her feet.

"I honestly haven't thought about it..." she said, though she knew he heard the lie as clearly as if it were a megaphone peeping in his ears.

"Bols, if you don't want kids, I can-"

"I don't know, Gene, OK? I haven't decided. Now please, how far is this school?" Her voice was panicked and high, and Gene ground his teeth.

"Five minutes." He said eventually, and then fell silent.

Alex lasted three minutes before she spoke again, in which time she had come dangerously close to drawing blood from the lip she now toyed with between her teeth. "Is this why you wanted three bedrooms?"

"Alex, I thought you didn't want to-"

"I just didn't realize you were thinking that far ahead!" Her voice rose slightly, and Gene swerved round the next corner a little more sharply than was strictly necessary.

"I didn't think it'd be a problem, Alex – I wasn't planning on bending you over the car an' shootin' off inside of yer 'til the buggers hit home! I just figured we may as well 'ave spare rooms in case it came to it!" His knuckles cracked as he squeezed on the steering wheel, shortly before slamming down the brakes outside the looming building of St Michaels Secondary. It was grey, dark and old, and a shiver shot down Alex's spine at the sight of it, adding to the chill that had been present since Gene had finished speaking. He gave no sign of movement, his jaw tight as his gloved hands rested awkwardly on the steering wheel before him.

"Look," he said eventually, almost reasonably. "I ain't gunna apologise- I don't see a problem and I definitely 'aven't got a reason to regret it; If we 'ave a kid, we've got a room, an' if we don't you can put a bunch o' throw pillows on the bed an' forget I ever mentioned it." He seemed to hesitate, as though debating whether or not to say something else, but then a moment later, he was out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him and striding quickly towards the entrance of the school.

Alex watched him briefly, jaw slack as his broad figure disappeared into the building before following, running to catch up and following his lead in keeping silent as they headed to the receptionists desk.

"DCI Hunt an' DI Drake," Gene growled, flashing his badge at the astounded receptionist before nodding vaguely at Alex. "Need to talk to one o' your students- ain't been at his 'ouse for months, so we're 'ere instead."

The grey-haired, drawn looking woman looked taken aback, and opened her mouth repeatedly to no avail before Alex took pity on her and intervened. "We've got a few questions to ask Ciaran Merlot- could you tell us where to find him?"

She continued to stare, but eventually the lady nodded, fumbling through a large in-tray that seemed to overflow with loose papers. It was several minutes before she drew one piece out decisively, pointing to the paper briefly before nodding. "Down the corridor, to the left, up the stairs and then into the first room on your left..." there was a brief moments hesitation before she added. "An' between you and me, Miss, he's a nasty piece of work – nice enough, when 'e needs to be. But he's been a snappy little bugger for months an' months. 'e's been suspended twice!"

"Thank you," Alex said sincerely. "Would you mind taking him out of the lesson for us? It's most likely not worth the disruption of breaking up the class – just routine questions... Could we wait here?"

"'course Miss – there's a spare classroom down the corridor if you'd like to use that? Or I could set up some chairs out-"

"The classroom would be lovely," Alex said decisively. Gene remained silent, and as they were led down the corridor, he maintained a stubbornly large distance between them, and when they were left alone in the dimly lit classroom, he headed over to the opposite side without saying a word.

"Gene-"

"Not now, Bolly," he growled, lighting up a cigarette and taking far more interest in the dull wall display of English history than he ever would have done in normal circumstances.

Alex felt the angry pit boiling away in her stomach, but she remained where she was, fingers clenched on her forearms as she stubbornly looked the other way, the tension settling around them like a fog. She could hear Gene pacing, hear him blowing smoke out of his mouth as he exhaled the latest drag on his cigarette, but still she refused to look round, despite the consuming need to confront him. A few moments later, when she thought she might truly combust with rage at his apparent detachment and was considering turning around and shouting him down, the door opened, and Ciaran Merlot entered alone, with an air of coolness that practically rolled off him in waves.

----

Her first thought, amazingly, was not that he was a potential link to a murder investigation, but that he was, in every way imaginable, the complete opposite of Benji Bragden.

Where Benji had been brown haired, Ciaran had hair of such brilliant blonde that it was hard to believe it was one hundred percent natural. His skin was youthful, flawless and milky coloured, lacking the horrible acne of Benji's own, and practically luminous in the dim light that filtered through the window. His uniform, which lacked any effort at smartness, with the tie dangling loosely and the shirt flapping free, was that of a typical teenage rebel, and the trainers that should not have been permitted were new, trendy and the sort of thing a boy like Benji would have cut off his own arm to get hold of. The rolled up sleeves did nothing to hide the muscle of his arms, and his shoulders were broad and strong looking. Cool blue eyes met her own, and a few moments later he had casually slumped into the nearest chair, making it look effortlessly fashionable. Short-cropped hair flopped into his eyes and he blew it lightly away whilst draping an arm over the table in front of him.

"Miss Bradshaw said you wanted to see me?" The cool tone, the natural politeness and the seemingly unworried nature of his voice caused Alex to blink in surprise, and it took her a moment to recollect herself, by which time Gene had already strode over, flashing his police badge as he might brandish a weapon, before pulling up a chair himself, slamming it down and sitting down in it heavily without a word. After several moments of glowering, he spoke, voice low, but surprisingly calm.

"You were in Rosa McKellen's class, right?" He asked, lifting the cigarette to his lips as casually as though he were sitting in Luigi's after hours. Ciaran nodded, reaching into his own pocket and drawing out a packet of cigarettes. Taking one in his fingertips, he slid the case away once more and then looked expectantly at Gene.

"Yeah, I was... You got a light?"

Gene said nothing, extracting his lighter and flicking it on, allowing Ciaran to light up before he said anything else. "You ever talk to her?"

Ciaran shrugged. "Now and then... She didn't like people much, y'know? Especially once she got all them lumpy things on 'er face...she thought everyone who spoke to her was just gunna laugh, so people didn't talk to her..." he looked thoughtful, then murmured thoughtfully, "I leant her a pencil once... never got it back though." He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a smooth drag that was practised and at ease as he looked at Gene with disinterest.

"Y'know she's dead?" Gene said, his tone light and chatty, though Alex was sure, as she drew up a chair beside him, that he was unusually tense, his legs taut and set at rigid angles. Her hand unthinkingly slid down to brush over his knee and calf under pretence of sorting out her footwear, and she felt him relax slightly, even as Ciaran replied with nonchalance.

"Well it's not really a secret is it? I mean, people don't show up dead around here without people knowing about it, and once people heard about it there were only so many people it'd be." He continued to smoke, lifting one foot to cross it over his other leg, tapping his fingers lightly on the sole of his shoe.

"Your sister," Gene said, sitting back slightly. "Sophia, right?"

"She ain't called that no more Sir, with respect, and well you know it I should imagine." He blew smoke out, glancing briefly at Alex, handsome face looking boyishly flirtatious as he raised one eyebrow, before looking back to Gene.

"Jessie, then," Gene said, stubbing out his own cigarette on the wooden table. "She was seeing Jeremy McKellen, right?"

Ciaran rolled his eyes. "How should I know? She changes her blokes from one day to the next, so yeah, she probably shagged him. Don't you need to arrest me to start asking me all these questions?"

"I don't need to do anything, sonny, so don't even-"

Alex squeezed Gene's leg tight for a brief moment as she interrupted, drawing her hands out onto the table and speaking gently. "We're just looking to ask you a few questions. Ultimately, we can't arrest you, and you have every right to leave this room, but in the interests of our investigation, and for your own safety if our findings were to somehow indicate you later on, would you please just go along with us for a while?"

Ciaran lolled back in his chair, eyeing Alex with a gaze that was far too experienced and knowledgeable to come from a seventeen year old boy. He took another drag, eyes not leaving Alex, before shrugging, unfazed. "Whatever. You seem clever enough to know there's no point in accusing me though; my sister shags a lot of people, and if one of them was McKellen's old man, that really isn't my problem. I don't meet them, I don't talk to them, and I sure as hell don't ask how their dead daughter is."

"That's perfectly reasonable," Alex said softly, pressing her heeled boot sharply into Gene's toes when he went to speak. He glared at her, but fell silent, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair as she went on. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions, and all I want is for you to answer honestly."

Ciaran eyes her carefully, gaze trailing openly to the v of her dress which demonstrated a modest and yet still quite intriguing cleavage. Gene stiffened visibly at her side, but Alex gave no sign that she had noticed, watching Ciaran with a question in her eyes. Eventually, he brought his gaze back up to her face and nodded, stubbing out his cigarette and flicking it carelessly across the room and onto the floor.

"Did Rosa ever mention to you that she was upset, that she was lonely at all?"

The teenagers eyes rolled, and he shook his head. "Like I said, she didn't talk much. If she did she was smarmy and bitchy and snappy; she hated all of us, and by the time we got to fifth year we all hated her too."

"So you've never spoken to her?"

"Except to lend her a pencil," Ciaran said, smirking. "She nearly fell off her chair, though I'm not surprised; don't think she ever got so much as a whiff of man off of her own bloke – toss her a smile and she'd probably 'ave dropped her knickers if she could move quick enough, it wasn't like-"

It happened so fast that Alex barely saw it; one moment, Gene was next to her, rigid as a board but firmly in his seat just the same. The next, he was around the table, grabbing at the loose tie around Ciaran's neck and tightening it until he was gasping for air, his face right in front of Ciaran's.

"You better choke on them words of yours pretty damn fast sonny, or I'm gunna make sure you choke on your tongue instead! If DI Drake asks you a question, you answer it! And you keep yer petty, _pervy_ little thoughts to yerself, you understand?" Alex couldn't help but roll her eyes as Gene's spittle flecked across the teenagers face, but Ciaran could be seen gritting his jaw, face reddening with lack of oxygen, before Gene finally, with a fierce shove, released him, stepping away and leaning angrily against the wall, arms crossed and eyes fixated on Ciaran as he rubbed his neck in apparent pain, but remained silent.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked calmly, sparing Gene only a brief glance, though it was long enough to see the angry glare he sent her way.

Ciaran nodded, cracking his knuckles against the table. "I'm fine," he muttered, sending a dark look in Gene's direction. "Can I go now?"

"I'm afraid we've got a few more questions to ask, but-"

"Look, I didn't know Rosa, I don't know her Dad, and I really couldn't care less if my sisters shagging him or not, so please can I just-"

"Are you religious at all, Ciaran?" Alex asked calmly, hands together on the top of the desk.

"Am I-? What's religion got to do with anything?"

Alex shrugged, "it's just a general question to help me put together a reasonable assessment of your character... are you?"

Ciaran looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I'm not- well, I don't like, y'know... I don't agree with things... Don't do churches or anything like that..." He looked embarrassed, and Alex nodded in understanding.

"Christian?"

"No."

"Protestant?"

"No... I ain't.... I dunno... I'm not a bible-basher or anything, I just think maybe some of the stuff they said ain't too far off the mark, y'know? Like, the whole Ten Commandments crap- even if it ain't true it's a fair rule to live by right?" Ciaran's voice was timid, less confident than before, but he seemed honest enough. Alex nodded again.

"Thou shalt not kill – that sort of thing?"

Ciaran gave a sharp nod. "Yeah... that kind of stuff... I mean, it ain't all right, but it's not wrong either..."

Alex smiled reassuringly as the boy trailed off, then, in a slightly more tentative voice, she asked, "did you know Rosa was religious?"

He shrugged, "Guess so... she wore a crucifix and stuff, but everyone knew she was shagging Bragden, so she wasn't a Nun or anything."

"You know her boyfriend, then?" She asked, intrigued.

Ciaran nodded. "Yeah... I mean, only a bit. He was a couple of years older, and we used to play footy with his year at break, 'cept he was always bent over some book or other in the corner and staring at McKellen- was before all the lumps and stuff were showin' on her face, and she wasn't exactly bad looking, y'know? She didn't even pay him attention 'til they started showing and he didn't stop staring..." he shrugged. "Anyway, we never really got on, though to be honest, nobody really liked him, either." He reached into his pocket and drew out his cigarettes again, glancing hopefully at Gene, who did nothing, and then at Alex, who could only shake her head apologetically. With a sigh, he held the unlit cigarette in his fingers, tapping it agitatedly on the wood.

"Do you mind my asking why?" Alex asked eventually.

He shrugged, frowning slightly. "Just- he wasn't _likeable_... He was always on about writing music, how he was gunna be famous and prove everybody wrong, always bringing up his Dad 'cause he buggered off when he was five and using it in arguments like it was some sorta secret weapon... We got pissed about it; enough of our old men had run off, and none of us went on about it..." His fingers tightened on the cigarette, and it bent slightly under his touch. "Nobody liked him, alright? It wasn't just me!"

Alex smiled, "thank you. Do you know how Rosa felt about him? Are there any other people in the year that might be able to help us?"

Ciaran snorted, shaking his head. "No... Nobody spoke to her... But, I mean... she seemed alright with him, I guess... can't say I sat starin' too much when they started making out, but she didn't look unhappy... I dunno..." He paused, and then added, almost dumbly, "sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Alex said softly, "we're very thankful for your time."

He nodded, glancing from her to Gene almost nervously before muttering, "Can I go yet?"

Alex nodded, standing up and walking towards the door, holding it open in a friendly gesture as Ciaran got to his feet and walked out. "Take care," she said, smiling warmly. He nodded in reply, glancing briefly at Gene and repeating the gesture, before turning into the corridor and walking out of sight.

Alex watched him for a while, but once he had disappeared, she turned to Gene, looking positive, though the expression was wiped from her face a moment later as he swept past her, heading back towards the entrance hall without a second glance, a cigarette lit between his lips. She followed him, her stomach twisted slightly, and joined him in the front seat of the Quattro. As they drove away, she saw Ciaran Merlot, seated on a nearby wall with a cigarette in his hand, bag open and a bottle of vodka clearly visible. He saw her and raised a hand briefly, before gathering up his things and jumping down from the wall, unscrewing the lid on the vodka and walking away with the glass bottle between his lips.

---

Gene didn't talk all the way back. He turned the radio up full blast, his jaw tight and eyes firmly fixed on the road; Alex didn't bother to speak. She was used to his foul moods, and she knew better than to start a conversation when he was clearly upset about something, but somehow the lack of interaction unnerved her, and she realized that whilst she hadn't really considered the future with Gene beyond living together, he seemed to have planned things, knew what he wanted from their relationship in the long-term... Much as it warmed her to know that he was so committed, that he wanted them to be truly together, she was terrified; terrified of how she might react to a child that wasn't Molly. Would she ever be able to love them in the same way? Would she love them too much, and completely forget that Molly ever existed? What if when she woke up in the morning, she couldn't remember what her daughter looked like? What if she called Gene's child 'Molly' by mistake?

She barely noticed where they were until the door was opening to her left, and Gene was holding out a hand. She hardly managed to conceal her shock as she placed her hand tentatively in his, but a moment later she was being pulled firmly up the steps and into CID, Gene's pace quick and hurried. They reached the corridor outside of her temporary office, and a moment later she was pressed into the wall, his mouth hard on hers, hand gripping her head fiercely as his teeth nipped harshly at her lower lip. There was something distant about the familiar gesture, something rehearsed and cold about his embrace, even as he pressed his body along the length of hers and she could feel him respond...

He pulled away suddenly, not meeting her eyes as he drew back, clearing his throat and gulping slightly. "See yer later, Bols," he muttered, and before she could even respond, before she'd even managed to blink back the unwitting tears that threatened as he drew up and away from her, he was gone, his long overcoat swishing behind him as he disappeared around the corner. A moment later, as though he had been waiting for her, Harrison had opened the door, his eyes angry.

"Now you've had your lunchtime shag, Drake, how about you come in here and do something useful with your time?"

Alex could only nod, following him in obediently with only a single, disappointed glance over her shoulder at the spot where Gene had disappeared.

----

**Really big thank you to Feline for this one – writers block is a cow, and her beta-ing made me feel a whole lot better for this one particularly :-)**

**Hope it was alright, and obviously, if writers block keeps at bay, I'll try and update again soon :D**

**Mage of the Heart**


	27. No 'Ifs', No 'Buts', No 'Maybes'

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Big thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter – I'm glad the writers block didn't affect it too much, and thank you as ever for sticking with it this far. More plot this time, with a bit of relationship advancement too :-)**

**Enjoy!!!**

**Mage of the Heart**

**x**

**---**

She didn't quite know what to think as she sank into her uncomfortable chair, taking stock of the numerous disorderly files before her with a soft sigh and settling in to work. She had been expecting nothing of Gene on their return- a brush-off, perhaps, or a brisk and abrupt goodbye with perhaps a half-hearted brush of his lips across her cheek; she hadn't expected to be pressed so hard into a wall, to have him kiss her quite so possessively, almost desperately... And yet, it was so cold, so rehearsed and un-responsive, that something about it made her skin break out in fearful goose-flesh. It had felt both pleading and uncaring, and somehow, even as she busied herself, the memory of the harsh pressure of his mouth on hers, and the recollection of his abrupt attitude for the whole journey back did not wish to leave.

And yet, underneath all the desperation, she wondered if he was simply saving her skin, doing what he thought was dutiful for taking her away against a superior officers wishes, kissing her desperately to fool Harrison – as he had done so very, very successfully – into thinking they had spent the hour having heated, sweaty sex... She understood, she supposed, that he would be distant; it had become obvious, in those few awkward minutes after their short-lived conversation, that he had placed a great deal more thought into their future than she herself. Until a few days ago, at the back of her mind she had not – consciously, at least- even decided to stay here with Gene, and here, in the midst of their next huge step together, moving into their own home, she discovered that he had considered more than that; had he considered names, as well? How soon did he expect them to start? With a groan, she put her head in her hands, kneading at her forehead with her fingers, pulse throbbing. The quiet of the office was broken by the phone on her desk ringing violently loud, the clanging making her head pound as she let out another groan and reached out for it, only to find that as she did so, another hand came down, scooping it up. Alex looked up as Superintendent Harrison answered with a drawling 'yes?' and for a few moments she stared in disbelief. A few seconds later, he was holding the phone out looking thoroughly annoyed about something, and she took it gingerly, frowning as he retreated into his office.

"Hello?" She asked timidly, slightly bewildered.

"Ma'am?" Shaz's voice was relieved, and Alex couldn't keep the frown from her face.

"Is everything alright, Shaz?"

Shaz seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then said, in an undertone that was clearly meant for nobody but Alex herself, "well... not exactly, Ma'am, only... well I don't really know what's wrong, either."

"What's happened?" Alex asked warily, glancing towards Harrison's office, but breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that he was bent firmly over his desk, scribbling something on the report in front of him.

"Well, Ma'am, that's just it; the Guv's just been – well, he's just locked himself in his office... and I know I shouldn't have looked Ma'am, but he left the curtains open a bit, and – well, Ma'am, he's not happy. He's just drinking and smoking and throwing darts, and he's told us not to disturb him unless someone dies, only, someone has died, and he sent Ray and Chris off on their own and said unless someone was castrated and hanging from their toes, then we weren't to disturb him, and-"

"Shaz, get him on the phone," Alex said, pressing her fingers into her eyes and groaning slightly. "And if he refuses, tell him I will personally see to it that he spends the next year in a state of intense sexual frustration!"

A long pause stretched down the phone, and then, reduced to her previous timidity, Shaz asked, "is everything alright, Ma'am? With you two, I mean? He seems mighty upset about something, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Everything's fine," Alex assured her quickly... too quickly, she realized, in retrospect, and she knew Shaz realized as much as the younger woman sighed softly.

"I'll just go get him, Ma'am... or try to, anyway." There was a clunk as the receiver was placed on the table, and Alex heard the clip-clop of Shaz's shoes on the office floor, followed by several recurrent thuds. There was silence, followed by Shaz's timid voice.

"Guv? Guv, DI Drake's on the phone- she wants to talk to you."

----

If Gene had known it would be this much trouble, he wouldn't have suggested it in the first place; kids and family were all well and good when you were married and settled down, and he knew well enough that whatever some people believed, most modern women were still firmly for 'marriage then kids', not the other way around. He supposed, in the midst of moving in together, he had deluded himself into believing that Alex was different, more reserved; she would have to be, surely, to take up with a nicotine-stained drunk with verbal diarrhoea and the mind of a sewer? But he supposed that he had been wrong, and that deep down, however committed Gene tried to be, Alex would always want the marriage he had once sworn never to lumber himself with again.

It was different now though- it wasn't that he didn't want to marry Alex, it was the knowledge that his last marriage had fallen so drastically to pieces, and that whatever he'd told himself to the contrary, it had hurt like a kick in the teeth. The idea of that pain repeating on him now, probably multiplied numerous times in intensity when he considered the fact that he was now caught up in a complicated web of emotions he had never before experienced, was almost unbearable. There was something entirely cold and corporate about divorce proceedings; he had been left exhausted and bewildered after he and his wife broke up, and though there was little emotion in their relationship from start to finish, it had drained him, and he couldn't handle the thought of getting caught up in legalities if his relationship with Alex were brought to an end. He wanted it to last, he wanted everything that a marriage was – the commitment, the trust, the companionship, the family – but he wanted to be certain, he wanted to have no doubts whatsoever that the day he placed a ring on Alex's wedding finger it would be forever... For a while, he had managed to convince himself that was the case; he'd have asked her to marry him when he handed over his mothers ring if she hadn't seemed so terrified by the whole thing, and now he wondered exactly what she was thinking, what she wanted from him...

Like kids- he'd thought that was a given with Alex. He knew she missed Molly, knew that there were some nights in the depths of sleep where she sobbed her daughter's name into his chest, knew that at the back of her mind there was no forgetting the little girl who, for whatever reason, she couldn't see... But he'd always thought, however naively, that it wouldn't stop her from wanting another child; he didn't know the circumstances of her marriage, and so he didn't know just what led to Molly being born, but he didn't need a degree in Alex's psychiatry or whatever she called it to know that she adored the little girl she'd given birth to more than life itself. Was it him, then, that made her so resigned to the idea? Maybe it wasn't that she didn't want more kids, just that she didn't want them with him- He was a chimney smoking, drunken has-been, and by all accounts she was out of his league, despite the foolish notion that he had, in such a delusional manner, believed that none of it mattered.

The whiskey bottle was slowly emptying, and as he got lower down into the glass his thoughts became slowly more irrational, and his cigarettes began to dwindle until he had only two left from a packet of twenty. When Shaz knocked on the door, he could have snapped with rage, was tempted to throw the glass bottle at the door and tell her to leave him to his drink without disturbing him, but her words hit home as he knew no others could, and a moment later he had lowered his feet from the desk, looking at the door almost fearfully as Shaz went on.

"She says you need to come and talk to her..." The words echoed in his ears, and they didn't quite process until he'd stood and walked over, only stumbling once as he attempted to avoid the bin and ended up catching his boot on the leg of the table. A few moments later though, he had opened the door, blinking slightly as the light from the main office threatened to burn his irises, only then realising the perpetual darkness he had been plunged into during his miserable spell in the office.

"Tell her she'll have to ring me 'erself," he said gruffly, glancing only once at the phone, then back at Shaz, who looked utterly petrified, closing her eyes quickly and answering at an almost inhumane speed.

"DI Drake said if you were to say that I was to tell you that you were going to spend the next year in a state of permanent sexual frustration!" She stopped for breath at the end, opening her eyes and looking nervously at Gene, who stared at her in blank shock for several seconds, before grunting something incoherent and heading to the un-hinged receiver, which he lifted to his ear.

"What'd you want, Bolly?" He asked, struggling to form the words in his mouth as he tiredly rubbed his forehead, resting his behind on Shaz's desk with no regard for the stack of paperwork he sent flying.

"To tell you that you're behaving like an immature and pre-pubescent spoilt brat who didn't get his way, and that if you don't start behaving professionally about the whole thing I will personally march down there and ignore all evidence of my punishment to tell you that you're a completely idiotic little child!"

Gene took a few moments to successfully understand the words, but when he did, after much clenching of his eyes and kneading of his forehead, he sighed. "I'll talk to you later," he muttered. "See you at home, Al-"

"Don't you dare hang up on me!" Alex answered irately, her tone rising slightly before she returned to normal pitch and volume. "We can talk later about what exactly is upsetting you, but if you don't behave like a mature, reliable member of the force, then you're a fool!" her voice quieted even further as she added, "The Super's already out to get you, and if you carry on like this then you're risking your job. Now please, go out, find Chris and Ray, and do something useful about that murder. I'll see you later."

Gene nodded dumbly, before realizing that she couldn't see him and deciding to speak instead, his tone utterly defeatist. "Yeah," he muttered, sighing. "'kay... I'll see you at home?"

"Pick me up after work," Alex said quietly, the reluctant smile evident even down the line.

Gene made a sound of assent, then, after a moment's awkward pause in which he searched for what to say, he spoke up, almost shyly, the alcohol he had so recently consumed plainly evident as he did so. "Alex..." he murmured, "y'know that thing you say sometimes?"

She was frowning, and he didn't need to see her to know it. "What _thing_?"

"Y'know, that _thing_, y'know... 'bout me?"

Recognition seemed to dawn on her, and a soft sigh of amusement came down the line as she whispered, "yes... what about it?"

"Say it..." his voice wasn't demanding; in fact, at that moment it was fearful and terrified, and Alex didn't bother to prolong his pain any further.

"I love you, Gene," she whispered, unconsciously gripping the phone tighter to her ear, treasuring the sigh of relief that left his lips and echoed into her mind. "We'll talk later, I promise."

Gene smiled briefly to himself, turning away from Shaz's curious gaze and nodding. "Yeah, 'kay... bye..."

"Bye, Gene," Alex murmured. There was a moment of hesitation, and then he spoke again.

"Oh, and Bolly...?"

"Yes?"

A brief pause, a slight hint of doubt and then, almost too quietly to hear and with an air of utter nervousness, he murmured, "love you too."

A second later he had dropped the phone back in its cradle, and the line went dead.

----

Alex could only blink and stare at her desk for several moments, the beep of the phone going ignored as she tried to process his words without hyperventilating. Of all the things he could have said, of all the civilities that could have left his mouth at that moment, she hadn't been expecting that. His quiet confession both delighted and scared her- it was almost desperate, a silent plea for her to understand, almost as though he were begging her not to do something... Guilt knotted itself in her stomach as she absently dropped the phone back into the cradle, one hand covering her mouth as she attempted vainly to carry on with the paperwork before her, but the words swam in front of her eyes, the letters muddling and making no sense as his timid voice echoed in her ears, speaking words she hadn't ever expected to hear...

"Drake?" Harrison's voice was oddly polite as Alex snapped her head up, and she had to frown as he held the door to his office open, loosening his tie on his neck as he indicated that she enter. After a moment's hesitation, she stood up, stepping into the office and standing awkwardly in front of the desk, wringing her hands uncomfortably. He shut the door behind her, walking round his desk to sit himself down and indicating the chair before her. She took it, nervous, fingers subconsciously toying with the ring on her finger, throat dry as she worried that perhaps he'd bugged the phone call and heard it all, that perhaps he would march down there and fire Gene on the spot... did they even have telephone bugs in nineteen eighty-two? Her mind was in such panic that she couldn't even think straight.

"This thing with Hunt," Harrison said, looking at her from across the desk as he pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "You realize that, when it all goes tits up, I won't accept your resignation, right?"

Alex blinked, both stunned and insulted. "Excuse me?"

"I won't accept a resignation on the grounds that you shagged a superior and it all went wrong, Drake." His frank bluntness was surprisingly comforting- at least he hadn't bothered beating around the bush.

"I wouldn't expect anything less, Sir," Alex said softly. "Though I'm not sure you need to worry about that."

Harrison sighed, taking a long drag on his cigarette before he leant forwards, resting his elbows on the desk as he looked at her. "Trust me, Drake; blokes like me and him aren't in it for the long haul. Married to the job, married to the fags, and married to the booze; just be careful." He stood up, as though the conversation were over, as though that were all he'd called her in for, but a moment later, Alex answered him without real conscious thought.

"But _you're _married!"

He paused in his perusal of the files on the cabinet in front of him, apparently surprised by her reply, before slumping back in the chair. "You already know that I'm sleeping with one of the WPC's, Drake, so don't think you're fooling me with the show of naivety. Married coppers look better than single coppers, alright? It's a mental thing, and you of all people can understand it I should think- if you've got a wife and kids, people think you'll understand what it's like when one of theirs goes missing, or gets killed or kidnapped or falls in front of a bus; it ain't rocket science. When coppers like Hunt and me were younger it was a bloody sin to be caught shagging anyone if you hadn't got a ring on her finger, so we did it- marriage ain't a commitment for people like us, it's a tip-off for a promotion. Think about it; if you've got two coppers in the force five years, but ones married, he gets the job, and he gets the trust because people like him better- so just don't expect a miracle from Hunt, or you'll be disappointed."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alex asked after a long silence.

Harrison shrugged. "You're a good copper, Drake. So is he, in his own way. But you're clearly in deep where he's concerned, and I'm just warning you not to expect a lot from him; it's not a reflection on him, it's a reflection on all of us. Just don't get carried away."

She couldn't help but stare at him; the truth of the matter was, his words made sense for almost every copper she'd ever met, even in her own time; life revolved around criminals, drink and forgetting anything to do with the misery they witnessed day to day. She didn't doubt, when she took the time to ponder it, that her own obsession with her job had gone some way to burning the bridges of her own marriage to Peter before Molly came along; of course, Peter's own lack of interest in their daughter hadn't helped, but she knew that her passion for the force had only fuelled their arguments.

"With respect, Sir," Alex said eventually, "I think my relationship with DCI Hunt is perfectly stable, and I have no reason to believe otherwise."

Harrison inclined his head, giving her a small, oddly understanding smile that went some way to changing her formerly adverse opinion of him. "Then for your sake I hope you're right." He stubbed out his cigarette, drawing out another almost immediately as he spoke again. "You know, I have nothing against him; but Policing is my priority- if things go pear-shaped between the two of you, I need your complete assurance that your work won't be affected. People die if we do our jobs wrong, Drake, and the fact of the matter is, a lovers tiff can lead to stupid decisions in the heat of the moment..."

Alex nodded. "I know that Sir... but you're hardly completely innocent yourself." Her tone was pointed and matter of fact, but Harrison seemed unfazed, returning her accusation with an apathetic shrug.

"I'm not reprimanding your relationship with Hunt; Skelton and Granger are a plain example that some work relationships are bound to remain violently nauseating until the day one or other of them trips over their own boot and into an early grave. The fact of the matter isn't that they _can't_ work, it's that men like me and Hunt are almost innately programmed not to allow them to." He took a brief drag on his cigarette, and then went on. "My marriage is only still together because of the kids; once they're old enough to understand, it's over, and neither myself nor my wife are denying it. My – for want of a better word – relationship with WPC Milner is a mutual arrangement, and it definitely doesn't affect our work."

Alex hesitated, remembering clearly the Superintendents reaction when Gene had brought up Harrison's affair with the WPC. "But- when Gene said about it, you were- you were scared!"

"Marriage is a fickle thing," Harrison mused, and for a moment Alex wondered if he was talking to her, or to himself. There was something bitter in his voice, and she wondered just how cynical the man before her really was before he went on. "I don't love my wife, and the feeling is most assuredly mutual, but the fact of the matter is, I made vows, and while I'm still married to her, I have to at least appear to be sticking to them." He flicked the ash from his cigarette and sighed, looking over at her almost tiredly. His brown eyes were open and unguarded as he murmured, "he's lucky, Drake, and he knows it. If he were ten years younger I'd be clapping him on the back telling him to get a ring on your finger bloody fast..." He hesitated, and then sighed. "Look, Drake, you don't need to listen and you don't need to believe me, but just think before you start getting too far ahead of yourself; he's still a rash copper underneath whatever else you've seen in him, so just watch yourself, alright? I'm not losing a perfectly decent DI because she fell into bed with her boss."

Alex blinked, and then murmured, almost imperceptibly, "It's more than you think, Sir."

He nodded, inhaling deeply. "Yeah, Drake, to you it probably is. Just make sure he's in the same place." He reached over to the side of his desk and pulled forward another file, which he tossed carelessly across the table. "Here," he said, standing up as she hesitantly drew it towards her. "It might help with the McKellen case; couple of links you might have missed, maybe. A mate of mine used to like that Merlot girl- eat your heart out, and get some work done." He pulled the door open, and nodded at her as she stood up, walking past him with a mixture of feelings in her stomach. He shut it behind her, and as she sank into her seat, she looked ponderously towards his office, watching as he sank into his chair and busied himself with yet another file. It was several minutes later, after replaying the conversation over and over again in her head, that she turned her attention to the small document he had handed over.

---

It was more detailed than Alex had become accustomed to; it was neatly organized and cross-referenced, with in-depth information on several of the leads that they had already followed- Joe Ellison, Jeremy McKellen, Sophia Merlot, followed by a later inclusion of her brother Ciaran, the latter two of which bore photographs glued firmly to the neatly laid out document. The two names that surprised her were those of Bartholomew Powler and Andrew Summerton; the faces that stared up at her were those of Barry, her false date from The Black Bull, and his openly gay friend Andy. She blinked several times, before reading the background on both, then picking up the phone.

----

"Bols, I can't just arrest the bugger because he's been in contact with a pair of former bloody convicts, can I?"

"Gene, you don't understand! Ciaran must have had a great deal more contact with Jeremy McKellen than he admitted to us if he regularly spent time with all of his friends! It says here that Sophia Merlot openly admitted that she and her brother both spend a great deal of time in The Black Bull, and that she was having a sexual relationship with Jeremy since at least March of last year!"

There was a pause, and then Gene muttered, "Thought that Barry twat told you he was shaggin' Jessie after Amanda said it wouldn't happen again?"

"Maybe he didn't realize that Jessie was Sophia- think about it. If you change your name, more often than not it's because you want to avoid something or someone- we never asked about a Sophia Merlot, did we? And perhaps they didn't even know about it – if it wasn't serious, what would be the use in sharing that with all of their friends? Please, Gene, we need to talk to Ciaran properly, in a real interview, with an attorney present if necessary..." She hesitated then added, in a quiet undertone, "I'll do whatever you like for a week?"

Gene's snort was loud down the phone, and his amusement was evident as he replied, in a flirtatious growl that set her stomach aquiver, "you do whatever I want anyway, Bols, with or without an arrest."

Alex smiled to herself, but, putting on her best pleading whine, she wheedled pathetically. "Please Gene, for me? I promise I-"

"Alright, Bolly," He groaned, sighing exaggeratedly. "I'll go get him first thing tomorrow, ok?"

"Thank you!" Alex said sincerely. "Really, Gene, this could be a huge help in this case, and if we can just talk to-"

"What happened to a year of permanent sexual frustration, Alex?" Gene queried in a muse-like tone. Alex blinked, thrown slightly off-topic, but, after glancing briefly at the Super, whose head was still bent at his desk, she couldn't resist following the new course of conversation.

"I – I don't know what you mean, Gene." Her innocent voice would fool nobody, and Gene least of all; he chuckled.

"Bollucks," he murmured, voice tinted with amusement. "I'm giving you something, so you'll give me a shag? Sounds to me like my little Fizzy-thonged housemate's turning into some sort of Tomcat..." His voice was teasing, and despite herself, Alex found herself blushing.

"I think that's a little unfair, Gene," she said softly, "after all, I'm-"

"Don't worry, Bolly," he replied softly, "s'long as I'm yer only punter, we can do your quid-pro-quo thing... l'll pick you up in an hour." The smirk remained fixed on Alex's face, even as Gene replaced the phone in the cradle.

----

Gene didn't really know why he'd said it when he had; he didn't doubt the truth of his words – or at least, from all the definitions he'd heard about love and its entailment, it fit unquestionably, and if that meant he loved her then yes, he supposed he did- and nor did he regret them. Despite his life-long reservation that love should not be voiced aloud following his father's abusive slander of its definition, there had seemed something almost natural about returning those small words instead of a simple 'goodbye', and though his stomach had remained in knots even as he went to join Ray and Chris at the crime scene, he felt no worry or doubt; if love was as complicated and wonderful as the feelings that rose up in his stomach and chest at the mere sight of her, there was nothing to deny anymore.

No, he didn't regret it.

What bothered him was not that he had said it, but the circumstances in which his admittance took place; had he come across as desperate, or clingy, or needy even? If they had been lying in bed together, he could have felt more assured that she understood, that she really knew how much she meant to him... Over the phone, it all seemed so impersonal, and in the midst of a disagreement it seemed such a classic mistake, and could easily be taken as a pathetic attempt to get her to stay with him... But could he have said it to her face, the first time? As he walked down the corridors towards her temporary office, he realized that the answer was no; he could barely bring himself to show her he felt anything at all unless he was given the directions on a plate or he was buried hilt-deep within her body. Honesty was all well and good, but at the end of the day, he wasn't used to revealing his feelings to anyone, least of all a woman who made his heart contract on sight...

His train of thought was interrupted as she stepped out of the glass-panelled doors, looking almost nervous as she met his gaze. For a few seconds, the air seemed to close in on his throat, and his breath constricted slightly as he waited for the awkwardness to pass; when it didn't, he did the only thing he could think of- he pulled her into his chest and pressed his mouth firmly against hers for a brief and yet surprisingly intimate moment. As he pulled back, gulping slightly as he fixated his gaze upon hers, he saw the slightest flicker of a smile on her lips, sliding her hand into his as he gently turned them both around, his arm slipping around her waist as they headed to the car.

----

It was an hour later, laying comfortably on their new sofa with Fitz sprawled out across their tangled feet and with glasses of wine in hand, that Gene shifted slightly, his hand moving to rest softly on her lower stomach as his lips teased across her forehead. She tensed slightly, glancing nervously up at him, but moving marginally closer as he continued reassuringly caressing her stomach with gentle fingers.

"Is it Molly?" he whispered eventually, oddly comfortable with initiating the conversation, despite the nervous knot in his gut. Her face shifted slightly, burrowing into his shirt so he couldn't see the tears that slid from her eyes; he didn't need to. He softly placed his glass on the floor, prying hers from her hand and setting it beside his own before holding her tight against his chest, a hand tangling into her hair and gently stroking at her scalp. His overwhelmingly comforting touch, the soft hush of his grating voice and the caress of his lips across her head was too much; a moment later, Alex was sobbing into his chest, her body shaking, and her breathing ragged.

Gene said nothing, holding and comforting her until the bitter expression of grief had passed, his shirt wet with tears as she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. As she calmed, he cupped her face, staring into the puffy red eyes, taking in the tracks of black down her cheeks where her mascara had run, and the quivering bottom lip as she looked up at him. His lips descended on hers for the briefest of moments before he spoke softly, fingers tracing the lines of her cheeks.

"Don't cry anymore," he murmured, resting his forehead on hers. "Someone might think I'm goin' soft if they see me bloody comforting you." A weak smile breached Alex's lips and she nodded, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand.

"Can't have that," she agreed softly. Gene watched her hesitantly, and then shifted so that his head rested alongside her own, their noses almost touching as his hand slid gently across her waist.

"Don't need kids," he said softly. "Just..." he gulped, and then, in a quiet voice, he went on. "s'far as I can see, Alex, filling the world with mini-Bolly's ain't a bad thing..." He tilted his face slightly, kissing the tip of her nose. "Just didn't think you'd mind kids after Molly..."

It was Alex who spoke next, cupping his face in her hands and meeting his eyes. "I love you, Gene... I just miss her- can you understand that?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he murmured. "I know you do."

There was a moment of silence, staring into one another's eyes until Alex spoke again, voice cracking with honesty. "I didn't love Peter like this, Gene," she whispered, eyes full of pain. "What if I love your child more than I love Molly?"

Gene blinked, frowning, then shook his head. "You wouldn't."

"I might," she whispered desperately. "How can you know that? I didn't plan for Molly, it wasn't like it is with you, I didn't love-"

He covered her mouth with his hand, ignoring Fitz's groan of protest as he shifted closer, nudging the dog lightly with his foot. "She's yer daughter, Alex. Don't matter who she came from or where she is, nobody's trying to replace her; you love her, an' you wouldn't be the woman I-" he hesitated, then spoke softly, "you wouldn't be my Bolly if you didn't." His fingers tangled in her hair, gaze falling on the flyaway wisps that escaped him. "Only want kids if you do... It's you an' me- that's what matters most, alright? Kids ain't gunna change how I feel about you... Just thought with you an' me, we could make this parent thing work..." He trailed off, and then pulled her closer, his lips next to her ear, voice gruff. "S'long as I've got you, Bols, everything else can wait..." There was a brief wait, and then, softly and quietly, he added, "'ave I got you?"

Alex nodded, looking up to meet his gaze with tearful eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "You know you do... and I do want children with you, it's just- right now, I had no idea you were- well... I had no idea that you'd even thought about it, and I didn't know it was even a possibility, until you said about calling the first one Gary Baldy, and then I-"

Gene chuckled, holding her slightly tighter. "If that's what holding you back, Alex, we can call 'em something else..."

She smiled. "No, I'm not holding back, I just... I didn't realize it was a possibility... I'd never have joked about being pregnant, but it was the first thing that came to mind to distract you and- well, I didn't realize we'd argue about it."

"Mmm..." Gene dipped his head slightly, lips trailing up over her neck. "Sorry," he murmured, "just got paranoid..."

Alex's eyes, which had closed under the tender caress of his mouth, flew open as she asked, startled, "Paranoid? Why?"

He hesitated and then gulped, resting his forehead on the warm skin of her neck before he spoke again. "Thought maybe I weren't good enough... Thought maybe you'd only ever wanted kids with yer 'usband and I wasn't up to scratch... his lips brushed her skin again as he whispered. "Got worried I was just fillin' a gap..."

Alex drew his head back, meeting his eyes with both of her hands cupped around his cheeks. "You are a ridiculous man," she said affectionately, pressing her lips to his nose for a small moment. "I would never have agreed to wear your ring if you were simply 'filling a gap'."

Gene looked away, momentarily sheepish, his hand seeking hers out and drawing it up to eye level; his mothers ring glinted back at him, and he kissed her hand softly as he met her eyes again. "Yeah... maybe..."

"No 'ifs', no 'buts', no 'maybes'," Alex said sternly, eyes sincere. "I am completely, irrevocably in love with you, Hunt, so stop dilly-daddling around and say you'll have children with me!"

Gene stared at her, taken aback, and managed only a high-pitched, "ey?" before Alex was kissing him firmly, mouth hard against his.

"Tell me you want children, Gene." She said softly, drawing back.

Still slightly dazed, Gene nodded, voice hazy. "Yeah... course I do, yer daft tart..." He kissed her again, and almost as quickly, he drew back, "just, don't boss me around like that in front of the kids, 'ey? Ain't good for the image."

Alex grinned. "Of course not," she said, teasingly adding, "you daft tart."

"'s'enough o' that," Gene growled, and leaned in to steal a kiss.

----

**Another huge thank you to Feline :-)**

**Hope you liked it :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	28. Do You Believe In Angels?

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

It felt as though barely ten minutes had passed before Gene was re-entering CID the next morning, and though his anger at the renewed separation of himself and Alex as she entered her new office was clearly noticeable at first, he knew that, when he allowed his mind to drift to the precious hours they had spent wound together in their bed, there was a small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, earning him many a peculiar glance from Ray and Chris and promptly resulting in a harsh demand for them to do some work, before he quickly disappeared into his office.

He couldn't quite believe it, if he was being honest with himself; the idea of Alex having his children, however much he might have considered it beforehand, suddenly became frighteningly attainable, and the prospect of what sort of a father he might be loomed over him like a cloud. Could he be the sort of father Peter wasn't to Molly? Or would he be just as bad as Peter, or even – please God, no – as frightening and frankly awful as his own father?

It had worried him, as the sun had set and he shifted slightly in his bed, but gazing down at Alex, her peacefully sleeping face so soft and content, he realized that nothing that was half her could ever merit his anger or aggression. His hands had caressed her sleeping face, tracing each of the familiar contours with the very tips of his fingers, and in that moment his mind had filled with images, dreams of blonde haired children with hazel eyes flashing through his thoughts, the girl adopting those same facial features, the boy taking on the feisty stubborn nature that had first turned Gene's head, acting irrationally protective over his younger sister... A smile had dawned on his lips, and as he slipped into slumber, Alex held protectively against his chest, the doubts that plagued his mind ebbed slowly away, replaced by a warm feeling that he would once have considered the height of shame, but which brought on a night of such peaceful sleep that he remained oblivious to Fitz's insistent barking, and only awoke when Alex had slipped from his grasp to let the whining dog into the bedroom. The dog had promptly leapt into Alex's vacated spot and refused to move despite her best efforts to shove him aside, before she herself had relented, walking around the bed and sliding herself in behind Gene, pressing close to his back and brushing soft kisses against his neck. "Your dog has stolen my bed," she murmured quietly.

Gene had chuckled, drawing her arms around him and closing his eyes. "I ain't complainin', Alex. Not s'long as you're still in it... Yer can spoon me as much as you like; an' if yer hand happens to drift a little low, I'll even forgive you." With a lecherous grin, he had cracked open a single eye, looking round at her in amusement.

She had rolled her eyes, shaking her head slowly. "Not with the dog in the bed, Gene; there are some things even I won't do."

Now, still attempting to come to terms with the previous evening's events, Gene sat in his desk chair, contemplating when best to arrest Ciaran Merlot; break time, in front of all of his friends? Or go for the simple route, as he had the previous day, and have the receptionist fetch him instead? A grin formed on his lips; there really was no contest, was there? Not when Alex was busy upstairs.

----

The moment the car skidded to a halt, Gene was out of the door, his black coat billowing behind him, Ray and Chris flanking him within moments as they stalked menacingly across the school grounds, Gene's hawk-like gaze picking out the platinum crop of hair adorning Ciaran Merlot's head, unwavering as he walked without a trace of doubt through the crowds of milling students, clenching his jaw to avoid smirking as they dispersed, making a path before the three police officers and casting nervous glances at one another as they walked assuredly into the shade of a large oak tree, Gene's gaze certain and confident as he met Ciaran's look of distaste as the young teenager sat casually against the tree trunk.

"Ciaran Merlot," Gene said calmly, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and yanking him forcefully to his feet. "I'm arresting you for deliberately providing false information; say anything, and I'll personally cut off your tiny little bollucks and pickle 'em fer yer sisters' mantelpiece!" With a metallic snap, the handcuffs clamped down around the young man's wrists, and a moment later Gene had grabbed the neatly cropped hair in his hands, jerking his head back.

"And," he added, growling quietly in the young man's ear, "tell me anymore lies, and I might just 'accidentally-on-purpose' let my DS loose with his fists." With a jerk, he pulled Ciaran upright and began to march him from the field, with Ray and Chris following close behind, saying nothing as the on-looking students stared in confusion. It was only when Gene had fiercely shoved the teenage boy into the car that he even thought to consider the lack of resistance the young man had shown.

----

The phone had barely rung once before Alex had snatched the receiver from the cradle, eagerly pressing it to her ear and squeaking a hurried "Yes?" before Gene's gruff voice reached down the telephone line.

"We've got him Bols," he said, sounding distracted for a few seconds, but then, a moment later his tone was more focused and driven. "Make sure you get down here on yer lunch. Shaz is gettin' you a buttie with the rest of us, but Harrison ain't gunna let you leave while yer on shift."

"Yes, of course," Alex said, biting her lip as she grinned in anticipation. "Thank you Gene, you won't regret it, I promise it'll be worth-"

"I know, Alex." He interrupted, his voice soft and husky. "It's always worth it with you... Just make sure you're here, alright? You can show me 'ow thankful you are at 'ome."

Alex paused, then, in a mischievous whisper that was overly dramatic, she added, "have you got any special requests?"

Gene chuckled. "Several," he replied, "all involving you on yer knees with yer knickers down around yer ankles."

Shivering, Alex nodded. "Ok... I love you."

Gene chuckled again, voice melting her stomach as he spoke. "Yeah," he murmured, "you too, Alex. See you at lunch."

----

If Harrison thought her leaving without a jacket was at all suspicious, he said nothing, and at one o'clock Alex was heading towards the familiar office of CID, walking through the double doors with a smile spreading fluidly over her face. The atmosphere was so much more relaxed in here than under Harrison's tight watch, and a moment later she felt the weight on her shoulders lessen considerably, greeting Shaz, Ray and Chris with more enthusiasm than could really be considered normal, before lifting her eyes to the domineering figure before her, slightly silhouetted against the bright light of the office at his back. He was smirking, she realized as she got closer. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie was loose, and his hair was ever so slightly ruffled, as though he had been running his fingers through it for some time; her heart rate quickened.

"Lady Bols," he murmured, nodding at her with a smile that was only for her, before standing back and allowing her into his office. Alex spared him a small frown, before politely entering, standing casually against the desk as he shut the door and closed the shutters. As Alex continued to crinkle her forehead in mock-confusion, Gene covered the space between them in two strides, hands cupping her face before his lips crashed down onto hers, mouth hot and searching as he tugged her firmly against him. Alex responded eagerly, fingers tangling in his hair as his teeth and tongue reduced her to a quivering wreck, the only thing holding her up his firm arms held tight around her back. When he pulled away, she was trembling and gasping, looking up at him with a dazed expression on her face as he smirked down at her knowingly.

"Been wantin' to do that all day," he murmured, pressing his mouth to hers briefly once again before stepping back, stifling a chuckle as her fingers scrabbled for purchase on the desk behind her to stop herself falling. "Come on then." Gene said reluctantly. "He ain't said a word, just sat there like a dead man's ding-a-ling; ain't moved a bleeding muscle..." Gene ground his teeth. "Bloody git – I was looking forward to watching Ray kick ten shades o' shit outta him an' all." He pouted slightly, before tugging her out of the office, stopping only to smirk at her as she stumbled awkwardly into his back.

"Yer need to watch it, Drakey," he murmured playfully, taking in her flushed skin and swollen lips. "People might think you've fallen prey to the otherwise unattainable Gene Genie- and then where will you be?" Having tipped her a quick wink, he left the room, and, after collecting herself and returning her breathing to normal rate, Alex followed.

---

When Viv brought Ciaran into the room, Alex expected some sort of protest or resistance. It unnerved her when the young man sank obediently into his chair, cuffed hands resting on his lap as he sat quietly in the wooden chair put out for him. Somehow he carried the air of coolness with him even as he sat there silent and cuffed, looking at Alex with an apparent nonchalance, one eyebrow raised in query.

"Look, I really don't know why I'm here, but I'm actually meant to be at school..." He lifted up his hands and nodded to the cuffs around his wrists with a pointed look. "So, can I go?" Ignoring him, Alex sat down calmly, pressing record on the tape player in the middle of the desk before folding her hands on the table in front of her, ignoring Gene's soft growl of annoyance as he angrily drew his chair out and slumped down, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed on the young man in front of him.

"Interview with Ciaran Merlot, commencing at five past one, October second." She smiled softly as Ciaran, speaking in a calm voice. "We're going to need to ask you a few more questions – we've received some information that would say your interview yesterday wasn't quite truthful... Do you have any comment to make?"

Ciaran snorted. "You didn't arrest me, so actually, there was no reason for me to tell you the truth."

"You gave us misleading information in a murder investigation- we can't allow you to simply walk away. What made you tell us that you'd never met Jeremy McKellen?" Alex was calm, but Ciaran was conversely gulping, wringing his hands together, beads of sweat gathering on his brow.

"Look," he said, glancing away. "I knew him, alright, but what's that got to do with anything? It's his daughter you're investigating- his wife knocked Jezza off, so what makes you think she wouldn't kill her daughter an' all?"

"I don't believe our police investigation is of your concern," Alex said sweetly, "but there was no evidence to suggest Amanda McKellen's involvement in the death of her daughter. Please, answer the question, and tell us why you didn't mention your association with Jeremy McKellen yesterday?"

Ciaran's tooth began to worry at his lip, before he shook his head briefly. "I didn't really 'know' him... I mean, he shagged my sister and the others didn't know about it, an' sometimes I sat down the Bull with 'em all, but I didn't _know_ him- he was just another bloke down the pub. He wasn't a mate or anything- I didn't really speak to him unless he was buyin' the next round, an' he never really bothered with me either. From what I gather he was a complete and utter tosser anyway, so why would I want anything to do with-?"

"You say he's a 'tosser'," Alex said, wiggling her fingers in the air, much to Gene's chagrin. "How do you mean?"

Ciaran shifted, his Adams apple rising and falling briefly before he shrugged. "He was married, left the Missus, got with Soph, and then buggered off back to the wife again..." There was hesitation in his eyes before he added, "An' he never saw 'is kid either. Weren't like with the rest of us- least our old men had the decency to piss off completely instead of stickin' around an' shaggin' our Mam's when we were at hospital or school or round a mate's house! An' Soph never let me say anything to him anyways, 'cause nobody was meant to know 'bout them two, so I didn't need to, y'know?" His voice was slightly panicked and defensive, and he glanced apologetically at Alex, who nodded slowly, ignoring Gene's snort of derision and pressing on.

"Was it common knowledge that Rosa's parents were still seeing one another?"

Ciaran stiffened slightly, before shaking his head. "No. Soph told me... Don't think anyone but Rosie and Bragden knew other than that, and-"

"You called her Rosie," Alex stated, her voice inquisitive, eyebrows slightly raised, although her expression remained calm.

He blanched, staring at Alex with fearful eyes before glancing briefly at Gene, whose face remained quietly thunderous as he sat rigid in his chair. "I- what?"

"You called her Rosie," Alex repeated softly. "Did lots of people call her that?"

He shrugged, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. "I guess so... just a name, it ain't a big-"

"Barry and Andy," Gene said suddenly, leaning forward and ignoring Alex's reproachful glare as he met the young man's eyes with a look of hardened steel. "You ever drink with 'em?"

Ciaran looked confused, and his eyes darted from Alex to Gene before he nodded slightly, shoulders relaxing slightly as he followed the new line of conversation. "Yeah... Barry's a mate."

"Well that says it all," Gene muttered in an undertone, before speaking again. "An' Andy?"

The teenager shrugged, looking nervously at Alex, who was grinding her jaw in annoyance, before speaking, apparently eager in his attempt to talk. "Not really fussed either way. Right poofter, an' he's been slippin' one to old Joe Ellison for bloody years, but he ain't too bad, I guess. S'long as he keeps it to himself I don't care who he's doing or how."

Gene's brow creased into a frown as he spoke again, voice ever so slightly bemused. "Joe Ellison?"

"Yeah; you pulled him in remember? You really thought he killed her? He wouldn't step on a twig, let alone kill his Goddaughter! He's a complete pushover; she'd only have had to say 'don't' and he'd have stopped!" He paused, nervously wetting his lips as Alex narrowed her eyes on him, before shrugging nonchalantly, shaking his head in apparent disbelief before he sat back in his chair, hands rubbing subconsciously at his wrists.

"So Andrew Summerton and Joe Ellison are involved?" Alex asked, her voice gentle and yet edged with something Gene couldn't quite fathom. Ciaran nodded hesitantly, and then, after a moments frowning, he shrugged.

"They're- well, y'know..." he looked hopefully from Gene to Alex, as though hoping they would catch on. Gene, his face drawn into a smirk, seemed determined not to allow Ciaran off the hook, and raised an eyebrow in apparent naivety. When neither Gene nor Alex made any comment, the teenager groaned. "They're shagging, ok? I dunno if it means anything – never got the impression they were in love or something, but I could be wrong... Look, why am I here? You didn't pull me in to ask whether Joe takes it up the arse or not!"

Alex kept her voice carefully measured and collected as she replied. "Why didn't you tell us you knew Jeremy McKellen?"

Ciaran shrugged, eyes averted. "Didn't seem important?"

"But you knew he'd been murdered?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

"And you knew Amanda admitted to it?"

"Everybody knew that."

"So you weren't scared about your connection to his death?"

Ciaran snorted, laughing drily. "No. Why? D'you really think I'd kill him?"

"You could've been angry," Alex suggested. "Seeing him hurt your sister that way must have upset you I should think... Maybe you saw an opportunity and took it?"

"I didn't kill Jezza, alright? We didn't even know he was back with the Missus till we heard about her killing him." Ciaran answered calmly, meeting Alex's eyes levelly and without a trace of fear.

"So, if you weren't afraid of your connection to Jeremy McKellen, then why didn't you tell us that you knew him?"

"Because I didn't want to." Ciaran remained calm and unbothered, and a moment later, Gene was out of the chair, striding round the table and grabbing him by the scruff of the neck.

"Right you filthy little scrot," Gene spat, "just answer the bloody question before I throttle you with that little nancy tie of yours! Why didn't you tell us you were getting pissed with Rosa McKellen's old man?"

"Because it's none of your business who I drink with!" Ciaran growled, bringing his cuffed hands up to dig strong fingers into Gene's wrists. His grip broke for the briefest of moments, and Ciaran attempted in vain to shrug free, before he was slammed face down onto the interview table, cuffed hands cushioning his face as the wind was knocked from his lungs and Gene pressed one elbow into his spine, voice low and menacing in Ciaran's ear.

"If I say it's my business, it is my business! So you better get your facts straight and start talking, else you won't have a bloody tongue to lie with!" His hand jerked Ciaran's hair back as he spoke, spit flying from his mouth and landing on the younger man's face.

"Gene," Alex said softly, maintaining the same sense of calm as before, "stop."

"You better talk, you filthy piece of pig-scum," Gene went on, ignoring her. "'cause I don't play nice when little bastards like you start getting cocky on my patch!"

Ciaran snorted, turning his head round to meet Gene's eyes, bristling with anger as he hissed in reply. "And I don't play nice when lardy coppers start bending me over like some bloody poofter!"

With a jerk of the wrist, Gene slammed the young man's face into the table, hearing the sickening crunch of bone as Ciaran's nose broke, blood gushing from his nostrils as he swore and spluttered, ignoring Alex's shout of protest. "Well lucky for you I don't swing that way, but that ain't to say the fat bloke in your cell doesn't!" With a heave, he shoved Ciaran back into his chair, sitting firmly on the desk in front of him and placing one booted foot on the chair between his legs. Even with the blood trickling down Ciaran's face and chest, covering up the majority of his features, there was no mistaking the anger and hatred in his eyes.

"You're a knob," Ciaran muttered, turning his head away and gritting his teeth; with a harsh kick to the groin, he was doubled over, coughing and groaning, red in the face as Gene shoved him back in the chair.

"Wrong answer you smarmy bugger!" He growled, raising his foot in threat once more. "Tell me what made you lie about Jeremy McKellen, else I'll land yer arse in jail quicker than you can say-"

"Gene!" Alex protested, and suddenly he was aware that she was standing beside him, face thunderous as she forcefully tugged on his arm. For a brief moment, he considered shrugging her off and bringing his foot down, but a glance into her eyes was warning enough, and, despite his reservations, he let himself be led from the room, warily eyeing Ciaran as they went, positioning himself on the other side of the door so that he kept the crippled-over teenager easily within sight.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Alex hissed the second the door had closed behind them. "You cannot beat him into submission – there are more civil ways to get information, and if you'd paid attention to _anything_ he said, instead of picking up on all the things he hasn't, perhaps you'd have realized that you're not asking the right questions any longer!"

Gene ground his teeth before replying, in a terse, angry voice, "You were the one asking why he didn't bloody tell us about Jeremy Mc-_fucking_-Kellen!" His blue eyes flashed as he glared down at her, but she stood her ground.

"I was waiting for a diversion in the conversation!" Alex stressed, waving her hands around as though to emphasise the point. "And if you'd waited a few minutes before pulling your 'macho' act, you'd have found it alot more enlightening than a blood-stained carpet and a now angry teenage boy!"

"Well if you don't tell me you're gunna get all your psycho-bollucks on the table, what am I meant to do?" Gene's retort was aggressive, his eyes dark.

"Well you could try listening to the conversation for starters!" Alex snapped.

"I _was_ bloody listening to that conversation!" He growled, towering over her angrily. "He's an evasive little shit who needs a quick boot up the arse an' you'll get all the answers you bloody need!"

"If you _were_ listening," Alex hissed, "you'd have heard him mention the fact that 'Joe Ellison is a complete pushover'!"

Gene narrowed his eyes at her. "Brainless as I am," he murmured in a gravelly voice, "I did hear that. And it doesn't change the fact that he misled a Police Investigation and-"

"Have you considered the fact that when Joe Ellison was brought in for questioning, he told us that he couldn't tell us anything because he'd been 'told not to'? Or did you ignore that in favour of beating him up, too?"

"Don't you dare question the way I run my bloody team again, Drake!" He snapped, eyes flaring with unbidden anger. "I'm still the superior officer no matter how much you fanny around upstairs with the Super, so unless I tell you otherwise, you'll keep that gob of yours shut while I do my job!"

He made to push past her, but was surprised to find her shoving him in the chest, eyes glittering with anger as she hissed back at him. "The only reason I'm 'fannying around' in the Super's office, as you so politely put it, is _you_, so don't you dare-"

"Don't use that against me, Alex!" Gene growled, bringing his face to within an inch of hers, eyes narrowed. "You know full well I didn't bloody want you stuck with him, so you better-"

"I never used it against you, Gene!" She snapped. "But before you start accusing me of playing about with the Super, you'd do bloody well to remember why I'm stuck there in the first place!" She reached out for the door handle, glaring up at him venomously. "I'm going to interview a suspect- if you think you can resist accusations about my promiscuity, then you can sit in on it! If not, why don't you try growing up!" With a shove, she opened the door, slamming it behind her without waiting for a reply. Gene stood stock still, staring through the glass panel as she sat down.

----

"Why are you with him?" Ciaran asked the moment she shut the door, his voice cracked and ragged as he attempted to breathe without worsening his pain.

Taken aback, still reeling from her and Gene's disagreement, it took several moments for her to even begin to form a response. "How'd you-?"

"It's obvious," Ciaran muttered, glancing sideways at Gene, who stood plainly on the other side of the door. "The way you look at him – and how he looks at you an' all... I just don't get it though – he don't seem your type."

Alex couldn't help but laugh bitterly, "My 'type' is a very questionable thing, and it's probably best not to go into it."

He shrugged. "I just don't see how he got you... He's a brash bastard and yet he looks at you like- y'know- like it's not just sex."

Alex blinked, sitting back with a frown. "You're quite perceptive, you know..."

He grinned, gingerly touching his nose before cursing under his breath, grimacing slightly as he spoke again. "He just – he ain't the sort've guy who'd take you out an' buy you flowers..." He shrugged. "Like I said, he just don't seem your type to me..."

Smiling, Alex shook her head. "There's more to our relationship than flowers, sex and dates, I assure you. It's just not immediately noticeable when he's behaving like a misogynistic bastard..." she hesitated. "How is your nose?"

Ciaran snorted, an action that made him cry out in pain and bring his hand up to cover his face. "Fine..." he said unconvincingly. There was a small pause, where Alex wondered how best to bring the interview back around, before Ciaran was speaking again, his voice soft. "Do you love him? Y'know, like, the forever sort o' love?"

Alex, though taken aback, smiled despite herself. "Forever is a very long time... but yes, I do."

Ciaran nodded, gulping. "I loved someone once... still do, actually..." A shadow passed over his face before he looked up at her again, frowning. "Don't it hurt when he's being a twat though?"

Laughing, Alex shook her head. "It hurts, yes... But I know he himself doesn't believe what he's saying most of the time."

"But, when they accuse you, of like, sleeping with other people an' that, don't it make you angry?"

"They?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ciaran's jaw tightened and his hand covered his nose before he nodded, breathing shakily. "Yeah, when you're with someone – anyone, not just him – doesn't it piss you off? And, y'know when they actually are with someone else, but won't end it, no matter how much they say they love you...? Have you ever-?"

Recognition dawned and Alex gave him a sad smile. "You loved her didn't you?"

Ciaran looked scared, then gulped, shifting nervously and avoiding eye contact as he attempted to appear nonchalant. "Who?"

"Rosie."

The use of the nickname he had so carelessly let slip seemed to stun him; he went rigid, eyes glistening with unshed tears before he turned his head away, nervous hands struggling to wipe the blood from the cuffs that held his wrists together, as though searching for distraction as he looked resolutely away from Alex. "No. I didn't love her..."

Alex sighed, sitting back in her chair and eyeing him carefully, saying nothing, waiting for him to move... It took him several minutes to turn to her, but when he did the tears were tracking down his face, cleaning a path through the smears of bloody on his cheeks where he had attempted to clean his nose.

"I mean... I did... but it's not like you think," he said sincerely, meeting her eyes this time. "Like, it wasn't teenage love, y'know? It was... It was different. Like it was real... an'... and it wasn't meant to happen... I didn't want it to really... it was just- well, we were friends once... before all the lumps an' stuff... and the thing was I liked her, y'know, like... I _really_ liked her... more than a friend. She was- well everyone liked her. She was nice, and pretty, and fun, and all that kinda thing, but once she got ill, well, everyone else- well, they all buggered off. And I didn't want to... she just... she got hung up on the idea that I didn't like her anymore- didn't want her... And I know we weren't that old an' all but – I tried telling her I was different, that it was special... and she- she hurt me, y'know? I wouldn't have left her, 'cept she was convinced the only person who could like her was scrotty little Bragden, 'cause he was '_in her league_'. And the thing was, she didn't wanna hear that I still loved her too, and she stopped calling on me, and phoning me, and talking to me on the playground and whatever and it was – it hurt. Every time I saw them together I felt sick, and it drove me crazy for years..." He stopped, gulping, his face red as he struggled to fight back the tears threatening to pour forth from his eyes. Alex said nothing, watching him carefully, feeling sympathy begin to well in her chest.

"She got worse," he said eventually, biting on his nails. "Couldn't walk properly, her arms kept getting so painful she couldn't move... she leant me a pencil once, but she could barely reach across to give it to me, and I tried to see if she was ok, and she didn't answer, then the next day she wasn't in, and I just thought- I guess I was worried I upset her, so I went round her house to talk, and she just broke down on me..." He looked nervous, grimacing against the pain in his face before looking away, voice dropping an octave as he spoke on. "I didn't know what to do. She was all upset, saying how Benji wouldn't help her, and how he didn't understand... And I just told her that if he knew what he'd got, he'd do anything for her, don't matter what it is... She said I was being stupid- said nobody could love an-" he gulped, closed his eyes, then murmured, "nobody could love an 'ugly spastic' enough to do it for her, and I couldn't help it, Miss, I really couldn't I just-" He looked away, whispering softly.

"I hadn't held her in so long- I hadn't forgotten, or anything, I just hadn't felt it, and she was crying on me and letting me hold her, and she smelt like – she smelt just like I remembered, and all I wanted to do was just not let her go and tell her how bloody perfect I thought she was whether Bragden could see it or not!" There was a crack as he clenched his fist, knuckles crunching loudly as the vein in his jaw strained, anger plain on his face. "She started saying how horrible she was, how miserable he made her feel about the whole thing, 'cause he'd never see there was anything wrong, never act like he _bloody _understood her at all, always pretending everything was _fucking_ fine when she was miserable as sin!" He was seething, arms tensed, the veins straining against his skin as he fell silent, glaring at the wall with tears sliding unbidden down his cheeks.

"Did Rosa say anything else?" Alex asked, eyes soft and sympathetic. Ciaran seemed to try simultaneously to shake and nod his head, then fell still, gulping slightly.

"She felt alone." He said finally, still staring at the wall. "Said God didn't love her and was punishing her for stuff she couldn't remember... she thought he'd abandoned her because she couldn't get better, and – well, I didn't know what to say. I ain't religious, and I don't believe in God, but I believe in _something_... and whatever it is they weren't abandoning her, y'know, it was just that she needed help and stuff, so I just said-"

"Do you believe in angels?" Alex asked quietly, her voice soft and sincere, looking at him with sympathetic understanding as her mind began to whir with thought. Ciaran blinked, head jerking around in shock, seeing the knowing look in Alex's eyes, his pupils widening as he did so, before he nodded slowly.

"Yes..."

Alex nodded, attempting an encouraging smile before speaking, "I'm going to quote something... I just want you to tell me if you know it, ok?"

With another sharp nod, Ciaran gave his assent.

Speaking in a soft voice, Alex kept her gaze fixed on his, the words from a young girl's diary swimming before her eyes. "He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee... And in their hands, they shall-"

"- shall bear thee up, lest any time thou dash thy foot against a stone." Ciaran whispered, voice cracking as he turned his head away once more. "Yes. I know it."

Alex was silent for several moments, her voice evading her as she stared at the broken boy before her. It was him, eventually, that broke the silence, meeting her eyes with his own tearful ones. "I told her I'd do anything for her," he whispered, tears tracing down his cheeks without shame, "and she called me her Angel."

Alex could only nod vacantly, slightly dazed, murmuring absently to the tape player as she went to stand. "Interview suspended." She murmured, pressing down the stop button, barely able to look at him as she did so, her hands trembling. It was only when she reached the door that Ciaran spoke again, his voice solemn and sincere.

"He'd do the same for you."

She froze, turning to look at him with confusion written on her face. "What?"

"DCI Hunt," Ciaran said, meeting her hazel eyes sadly. "He'd never admit it, but if you asked him to, he would..."

"No, he wouldn't," Alex said softly. "He's not-"

"He loves you." The teenager said simply, eyes unwavering. "He'd do it."

---

**Another huge thank you to Feline for beta-ing :-)**

**And huge hugs for my Smut-Pit ladies for making me smiley this week :-)**

**Hope you liked it :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	29. What It Means To Love

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

Alex's head spun as she walked out into the abandoned hallway, feeling a chill wash over her as tears threatened to spill over, searching in vain for Gene's hulking figure, shivering and shaking as she stumbled down the corridor. She turned the corner, her eyes blurred slightly, lip trembling as she lifted her gaze to Gene's face. The scowl on his face faltered as she did so, transforming into a look of concern as she lifted her hand to cover her mouth, shaking her head as her eyes stung viciously, still stumbling towards him.

"Bols, what-?" Gene was cut off as Alex collapsed against his chest, shaking and quivering as one of Gene's arms wrapped around her waist, his lips in her hair whilst he moved to settle the steaming cup of coffee in his other hand onto the window ledge at his side, before tugging her tight into his arms, one hand stroking her hair as the other rubbed gentle patterns into her lower back. She continued to sob, eyes wide, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Gene could feel the anger bubbling away in his stomach, a small torrent of hatred that he couldn't quell.

"Did he hurt you?" He growled, pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, gripping her tighter. She let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob, but shook her head, pulling back just enough to look at him whilst she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing across the slight dusting of stubble that covered his face. She attempted to calm herself, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths as she wet her lips with her tongue, still shaking her head as she did so.

"Do- do you love me, Gene?" She whispered, Ciaran's words echoing in her ears as Gene's silvery blue gaze fixed upon her for several moments, his large hand covering her cheek as he looked at her, fingers tangling in locks of hair, before he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the flesh at the base of her ear.

"Yes, Alex," he murmured, tugging her gently closer once more, while his fingers traced tenderly down the column of her neck, his voice gravelly with emotion and certainty, "I love you."

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting; a sigh of relief? A smile, maybe? A whispered 'I love you too'? Whatever it was, he knew for certain that for her to burst into renewed sobs hadn't been it. She clung onto him, arms around his neck as she continued to tremble.

"Bloody hell, Bols, if I knew you'd sob all over me like a tap I'd 'ave said no!" His voice was unnerved, and for a few moments he wasn't sure whether it was simply because she'd sobbed at his declaration, or because she'd had to ask him in the first place... Before he could question her, Alex had shaken her head, drawing back with her eyes red and puffy as she looked up at him.

"No... I'm sorry, Gene, I just-" she faltered, unsure of what to say, turning her face away from him as she bit down hard on her lip. "I'm sorry." She whispered again. Gene hesitated only briefly, before he gently twisted her head back to look at him, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth.

"What happened, Alex?" He murmured, breath teasing over her cheek as he gently rubbed his nose against her skin.

Words failed her, and though she attempted many times to say something of consequence, it came out in a rambling mess, with Gene catching only three words from the whole thing – "he loved her."

----

Once Alex had calmed down enough to breathe normally, Gene sent her off to the toilets, telling her gently to put her face back on and go back upstairs to the Super's office. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, pushing her gently into the Ladies room before turning back down the corridor, jaw tight, still unsure exactly what Alex had learned, and momentarily scared that the little jerk had managed to get out of the station in their absence; he was surprised, when he got to the door, to realize that his worry had been unnecessary- Ciaran sat in the chair, still covered in blood, with no sign that he had even thought about escaping.

Gene met Ciaran's calm gaze as he closed the door, grinding his teeth slightly before he sat down heavily in the chair opposite, glowering darkly whilst he slammed one hand forcibly onto the record button of the tape machine.

"You're quite the little shit, ain't yer?" Gene growled softly as the recorder began to whir, leaning forward on the table and never once breaking eye contact. "'cause you might've fooled DI Drake with all that lovey-dovey mumbo-jumbo you spurted out, but you ain't foolin' me; you didn't love old McKellen's daughter any more than I love the image of a fat bloke prancing around a pole in zebra-print knickers, so you best get your story straight if you wanna walk out of here with both bollucks still intact!" His voice was low and menacing, but Ciaran barely even blinked.

"With respect, then, you must like that image quite a lot Sir..." There was no sarcasm, no snide undertones, and the cool, calm, sincere tone of the young man before him caught Gene off guard, "'cause I did love her, and I still do."

Gene narrowed his gaze slightly, fists clenching under the table. "I ain't in the mood for games, Merlot; I want a bloody honest answer, and none of your crap about being in love with a girl you openly slagged off yesterday afternoon- got it?"

Ciaran rolled his eyes. "You believe everything you hear, do you? I was bloody in love with her from day one, and-"

"You said you leant her a pencil once yesterday- only contact, right? So when'd you have the time, between fumbling in yer pencil case an' handin' the thingy over, to decide you wanted to settle down and 'ave kids with 'er, lumps an' all, while she's shaggin' some other bloke blind?"

He could tell Ciaran was getting worked up- his arms were tense, the veins in his neck standing on end as he turned his head away. "That was just the first time I spoke to her – it was first year of secondary, and I'd wanted to talk to her for ages... And she wasn't shagging him in first year, alright?"

"So you were eleven an' decided you were in love with some bird who touched yer pencil?" Gene's smirk was cool before he added in a soft growl, "I ain't buying it Merlot, so start talking!"

"I didn't _know_ I was in love with her when I was eleven!" Ciaran retorted, his cool composure from the day before disappearing before Gene's very eyes. "We started talking – we ended up as friends for Christ's sake! I didn't even realize I loved her 'til she stopped talking to me! I always just thought I fancied 'er or something but it weren't like that! It was just-"

"I ain't a bloody nancy boy, and I ain't a bird who's gunna believe everything a bloke says if there's 'love' in the sentence; you don't love Rosa McKellen, and I ain't letting you out of 'ere until you tell me why bloody Jeremy McKellen was so much of a big thing that you told us you'd never met him!"

"It wasn't anything to do with bloody Jeremy!" Ciaran retorted, slamming his cuffed hands on the table as he turned angry eyes on Gene.

Gene raised an eyebrow. "Must've been something to do with 'im else you'd 'ave told us right out you knew he shagged yer sister and that yer drank with him..." He leant forwards, his voice low. "I ain't as thick as I look."

Ciaran shifted, gulping slightly, then looking away. "It wasn't Jeremy."

"Bollucks."

"It wasn't," he repeated softly, "it was Joe."

Gene's immediate reaction would have been to swear vehemently and kick the cocky little shit into co-operation; it would have been, but Alex's earlier words rang in his ears, his brain dredging up vague memories of tape-recordings from Joe Ellison's interview. _"__Told not to... asked not to... couldn'... shouldn'... not allowed... shouldn' tell..."_

He stared at the young man for several moments, eyes still narrowed and accusatory, but he knew a spark of recognition had flickered in his gaze the moment he saw Ciaran's eyes close, in what Gene assumed to be shame.

"Ellison?" Gene asked eventually, voice tight.

Ciaran nodded, staring at his hands.

"What about him?"

There was a pause, a hesitant moment where Ciaran seemed to teeter on the edge of indecision, before shaking his head slowly. "Before I tell you, will you just-?" He gulped, and then murmured, "Will you just believe that I do love her, and that I'd never have done it if I didn't?" His gaze lifted, eyes desperate and pleading. Gene chewed on his lip briefly before answering.

"Still sounds to me like you're talking out of yer arse," he said, eyes narrow. "But for arguments sake, let's say I'm trying to believe you, alright?"

Ciaran nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but Gene interrupted before he could manage anything.

"Why'd you love her?" The question took Ciaran aback, and Gene saw the confusion in the younger man's eyes as he blinked, shaking his head in confusion.

"I- what d'you mean?"

"You love her," Gene said, arms crossed and gaze unfaltering. "Why?"

"How can you ask me that?"

Gene rolled his eyes. "What'd you love about her? Must've been summit other than the lumps an' the fella, so what was it?"

Ciaran stared, mouth slightly wide as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What-? Everything- I don't know! I just did! She was just-"

"Good in the sack?" Gene suggested, eyebrow quirked. Ciaran shook his head, jaw tight.

"No, it wasn't like-"

"Nice arse?" He supplied, his eyes narrow. "Good tits? Let you cop a feel when nobody else was looking?"

"NO!" Ciaran's voice was nearly hysterical, tears brimming in his eyes as he glared angrily at Gene, desperation in the depths of his gaze. "It wasn't like that! It was like you and DI Drake, it was different! It was special! It was-"

Gene was leant across the table in moments, his hand grabbing Ciaran's shirt and lifting him slightly off his chair as he growled his retort. "Myself and DI Drake ain't got a tarts todger to do with this you lousy scum, so you better stick that tongue back behind yer teeth before you say something you'll regret!"

"You look at her the way I looked at Rosie!" Ciaran snapped, eyes flaring with hatred as he attempted to shrug from Gene's grasp; he failed, and fixed his glistening eyes on Gene's. "You look at her like she's heaven, like she could sprout another fucking head and it wouldn't matter because she's still your _fucking_ perfect girl! You can't explain that away and put it down to _bollucks_ about tits, and arses, and sex!" His face was red, his eyes wide and angry, his hands struggling against the cuffs on his wrist as he tried - and failed, once again - to tug Gene's arm away.

He fell still, his lip quivering slightly, voice falling to an anguished whisper that grated against Gene's ears. "She's everything to you for Christ's sake! You look at her like she's made of glass, like she's everything you've ever wanted, and you'd walk on hot coals just to make sure she didn't cut herself on a piece of paper!" Tears slid from his eyes as he shook his head, Adams apple rising and falling as he tried to collect himself, several minutes passing with Gene's hand clenched impatiently on the scruff of his shirt, refusing to let go, resisting with all his might the urge to slam the teenager into the wall...

When Ciaran spoke again, he did so with anger, with venom, with pain and hatred so raw that it echoed through the room and rang in Gene's mind endlessly. His fingers dug painfully into Gene's arm as he glared at him jaw clenched. "And you're fucking sitting there, telling me to _describe_ that? Have you ever tried? You can't possibly explain that! It's just completely _fucking_ illogical! The only thing you understand is that everything about her drives you crazy; her smell gets in your nostrils and it won't leave for days, and you'll sit there in the dark remembering the way she felt in your arms, and how she tasted of things you'd never even liked until they were all _her_! And suddenly your favourite smell isn't a fag, and it isn't vodka, or whiskey, or beer, or wine anymore- it's fucking vanilla shampoo, or bloody Chanel, or the stink of her washing powder on the top that makes her look so _damn_ good that you can't believe she's yours! And you don't want to taste anything except that stupid lipstick she wears that smudges on your face and won't wash out of your collar for days! And however much you tell yourself differently, nobody else _ever_ fits against you like that, nobody else clicks into place or wraps around you like a second skin!" He was sobbing, shaking where he stood, and Gene's grip slackened slightly as he stared at the younger man, eyes widening briefly with a dawning sense of kinship.

"They're just people," Ciaran said softly, blinking angrily against his tears, looking at Gene imploringly, desperately, searching for understanding..."They're just stupid, idiotic people who could never measure up to _her_, because she's all you can ever think of – even when you hate her, even when she's angry and you _know_ she's with someone else! Even when you think it'd all be easier if you weren't with her, if you were with someone simple- someone who'd never have the power to fucking _hurt_ you the way you know she could..." His voice dropped slightly, falling to a softer pitch that was barely above a sad whisper. "But it doesn't matter what she does - you're always _craving_ her, thinking about her, completely wrapped up in your own thoughts, and fantasies, and dreams where it's just the two of you... And even when you're exhausted, when you're completely shattered and don't want anything more than to sleep, you'll always be out of bed in a second if she rings to tell you she needs you, always be round her house as quick as a shot just to let her cry on your shirt and beg you to tell her it's alright, because it's _her_!Anyone else, you'd just say you'll ring 'em in the morning, tell them to turn on the lights and get themselves a cuppa- but if it's _her_, nothing matters but making sure she's alright here and _now_, getting round there and pulling her into your arms just to know she's still in one piece..."

Gene's hand fell away, and he found himself sinking back into his chair, staring blindly at the young man in front of him, not really seeing him. His mind swam with images, memories, faint hints of scent and taste that had tortured his mind for weeks and weeks before he and Alex had even considered breaking down the barriers of their working relationship.

He recalled with frightening clarity the worry in his mind as Alex phoned him in tears from her old flat above Luigi's, the desperate need to see her as he raced across town just to see that she hadn't done something stupid, that she wasn't falling to pieces without him... He remembered the feel of her in his arms as they stood on the landing outside her flat, the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body pulled so tight against him, the relief he'd felt at the knowledge she was safe, followed by the horror in the pit of his stomach at the knowledge that she was so broken, the urgent need to reassure her, to protect her, to make it all go away so that she never had to feel that way again...

He remembered the horrible sense of dread at the thought of leaving her again, the blissful respite whenever she asked him to stay the night once more, and the putrid taste of disgust in his throat when he'd left her side for a few hours, losing himself in the stripper whose name he couldn't even remember, who'd paled in comparison to Alex, even before they'd admitted to their feelings, even before he knew what she was like to kiss, to taste, to love...

Jesus, had he loved her even then? He remembered thinking it once; wrapped in her arms, his lips pressed to her forehead as she washed away forty-years worth of grieving with her tender touch and reassuring words, he'd considered it... But he'd never believed it- he hadn't really believed in love at that point, at least not in that way, not in the mind-numbing, consuming manner that he did now, not in the way that devoured him every time he saw her, or thought about her... Had he really felt that way, even way back then?

He could still remember the overwhelming sense of solace he had felt the moment he'd returned to her from his brief excursion with the nameless stripper, could still recall the moment he had wrapped Alex in his arms, his clothes still stinking of cheap perfume, sex and fags... He could still feel his stomach unclenching as her perfect, smaller body pressed against his chest, remember burying his fingers in her hair, crushing her against him, inhaling her scent and imprinting it on his memory as though nothing else had ever existed but her...

Gene's head swam. The memory of their first kiss, so tentative, so awkward, followed by their perfect union the next morning, and the incredible upheaval he'd felt as she gave herself to him completely, without question or worry... And then the insane jealousy as he'd watched her flirt – even falsely – with another man, the sick sense of vexation that she'd realize she could do so much better, that she'd leave him and take up with someone younger, better looking, richer...

He blinked back to reality, suddenly cold as he looked at the boy before him; and he was just a boy, he realized. He was just a boy, who'd fallen in love with the wrong girl.

Ciaran was broken, and plainly so, now Gene took the time to look at him; he was slumped over, covered in his own blood and not even bothering to complain, taking everything on the chin because he felt like he had to. There were bags under his eyes, and his fingers were twitching in the same way that Gene's did when he desperately needed a cigarette or a drink, when he needed to forget everything but the burning alcohol searing down his throat, or the haze of nicotine infiltrating his bloodstream... He was exhausted, and he was lonely. He was still a bloody pretty boy, mind, but something was missing, something huge, something that made him whole...

"I told you," Ciaran murmured. "I loved her." His own, sapphire blue eyes met Gene's, and for a moment Gene could see every emotion he felt for Alex reflected back at him, burning vehemently in the depths of a gaze too young to really comprehend it. "She was everything to me – and every day I had to watch her suffer, see her break down and cry when she was in so much pain she couldn't move, stand by as some other bloke made her feel like complete and utter shit, had to watch as she just let it happen, because she thought I could 'do better'!" The distaste and revulsion turned Gene's stomach, but he couldn't break Ciaran's gaze, listening more intently than he would ever admit as the boy went on, pain splintering across his young, troubled face.

"Do you have any idea what that was like?" He asked, voice cracked and abrasive as he spoke. "Do you know how many nights I sat up wishing that, if she couldn't get better, I'd get ill, just for the chance that maybe then she'd let me hold her, instead of that bastard, who never seemed to want anything except to make her feel as shit as he did?" He laughed bitterly as he added, "do you know how many days I ended up in detention for smacking him in the gob? Everyone else thought I was just doing it for the kicks, the laughs, the fun of it – I don't get off on punching people though; not unless they earned it."

Gene looked at him, searching for something to say, wetting his throat before speaking, his mind struggling with the varying personalities he'd seen this boy put forward in the last two days. "You seemed pretty damn against her yesterday- weren't just 'er fella you were slaggin' off... So why all the bleeding sentiment today?"

"I'd been drinking yesterday." Ciaran said softly. "I lie better when I'm drunk."

"You didn't know we were comin'," Gene answered. "Why'd yer get pissed?"

"Didn't say it was deliberate," the teenager replied coolly, "I had a shit night, so I started drinking before I came in."

"No slurring, though?" Gene asked, quirking one eyebrow. "I ain't exactly a virgin drinker, sonny; I know a piss'ead when I see one."

"It wasn't like I'd downed five whiskeys, 10 pints and a vodka chaser," Ciaran snapped, "It was just one for confidence- makes me feel better. I ain't exactly dancing around in perpetual bliss right now, alright? It was just a drink, an' when you spoke to me I wasn't cuffed and panicking and-"

"What'd you 'ave?" Gene asked, settling back in his chair. Ciaran frowned.

"'ey?"

"Drink... what was it? Vodka? Whiskey? Gin? Rum? What?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Double whiskey, no ice." In a mocking tone, he said, "I had it in a glass tumbler and I downed it in one," with a patronising lilt, he added, "anything else officer? Shall I tell you the brand an' all? I can, if you think it'll help?"

Gene glowered across at him, clenching his fists as he lowered his voice to a menacing growl. "You're a cocky son of a bitch, an' I'd watch it if I were you." There was a moment where he stayed silent, watching the boy before him as he sat there, not even bothering to retort. "You were in a drug-bust last year, right?" Gene asked, leaning back in his chair, his voice light, almost casual.

Ciaran nodded. "Yeah, I was."

"Coke, weren't it?"

Another nod.

"Got off though?"

Again, a small nod.

"But you were there?"

"Yes."

Gene waited a few moments, and then spoke. "D'you do alot of it?"

Ciaran shook his head, face ashamed. "No... It was just a one-off. The bloke said if I helped he'd give me some free..."

"So you were gonna use it?" Gene asked.

"I was," Ciaran admitted honestly. "But it didn't happen."

"Tickle yer fancy did it?" Gene murmured, eyebrow raised, "Thought it'd be fun, 'ey?"

"No," he answered, voice pained and bitter. "I got pissed 'cause I'd spent a day watching Rosie stick her tongue down that scrotty Bragden's throat, and he came up in the pub and suggested it – at the time, it sounded like a good idea. I ain't proud of it, and he got busted before I'd even managed to sober up... I'd only have regretted it in the morning anyway."

"So, in a nutshell," Gene said, eyebrows raised, "she's shaggin' Bragden, you ain't good enough for her, so, yer get pissed...? What 'appened next? Ran into 'em on the street? Lost control o' yer fists?"

"No," Ciaran sighed. "I thought I upset her once, so I went round to make sure she was ok, and she told me how shit she felt, how unhappy he made her, and we just- we hadn't spoken properly in a year... I stayed over, and she asked to see me again- I couldn't say no."

"Well, you could," Gene supplied sardonically, snorting in dry amusement before shaking his head.

"No, I couldn't," Ciaran answered, meeting his gaze. "I wanted to- really, I did. But it was Rosie... I missed her; I hadn't spent time with her for a year, and I just- I couldn't help it! She made me feel like I was important to her, for the first time since she'd got ill, she was paying me some attention, and not Bragden. She was just- she needed me, and it was everything I'd ever wanted! She wanted my help, she didn't push me away because I was 'too good'! I just couldn't stop it after that... I kept seeing her- told her I loved her, and that I'd do anything for her, and she said I was her Angel... said she loved me too..."

"And you believed her?" Gene asked, voice laced with amused disbelief.

Ciaran stared at him blankly. "Of course I believed her!"

Gene rolled his eyes, not unsympathetically, before speaking again. "So she loves yer... but she was still with Bragden, right?"

He nodded glumly. "She said it was better that people didn't know... said everybody was used to her and Bragden being together, and nobody would like her if she ran off with me..." He shifted uncomfortably. "She stopped seeing him as much, though..." A small smile tugged at Ciaran's lips, "she started seeing me more..."

"Ever tell anyone about yer?" Gene asked, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing cigarette and lighter, lighting up swiftly and ignoring the look of need in Ciaran's eyes as he watched, his fingers cracking on the desk as his eyes followed Gene's lit cigarette with longing, before he shook his head, meeting Gene's gaze.

"No," he said softly, sniffing slightly and cringing in pain. "She wanted me to be happy – didn't want people thinking badly of me."

Gene couldn't help the snort of derision that left his nostrils as he exhaled. "You're more bloody stupid than I thought if you believed that crap! You'd just set yer bollucks on a plate sayin' you'd do anything for 'er you stupid twonk- 'course she said she loved yer!"

"She wasn't like that!" Ciaran hissed, voice defensive and angry, eyes flashing. "You don't know what it was like! You didn't know her!"

"I know enough!" Gene growled. "I know she didn't dump 'er fella after you told her yer loved her. I know the night before she died, Rosa McKellen asked Bragden to do it for her. I know that in her diary, you never have a name other than 'Angel', and I know that she never mentioned anyone but Benji to her Mam... you still gunna tell me she loved you?"

"Yes," he said softly, gaze not faltering once. "Because I knew her... And I don't care what Bragden, or her Mum, or her diary said; 'cause when you're holding someone that close you just know- you can tell. And it doesn't matter what they call you, or who they tell, or what they ask you to do- not when it's real like that. Because you can't fake that sort of feeling, or that look in her eyes when she thinks you ain't looking; it's just there, and you know it!"

Gene said nothing, watching Ciaran for several moments before he shook his head, more at himself than to the boy before him; there wouldn't be any convincing him, Gene realized. And though he knew he should carry on with the interview, knew Alex would scold him later for not having followed it through to the end and finding out Joe Ellison's involvement, he couldn't bring himself to do so; he had no idea what Rosa McKellen felt about Ciaran – not really. He'd heard Shaz reciting extracts from her diary, reading sections about 'Angel' that were full of some sort of idolisation that Gene had never been able to pin down.

He had never taken it as real love, that was for sure, and though he could feel sorry for the boy before him, the bitter, cynical side that Gene had tried to bury in recent years was rearing its ugly head, and he couldn't bring himself to believe, no matter how much Ciaran insisted to the contrary, that Rosa McKellen had loved him as completely as the boy thought.

Part of him – the part, he realized, that echoed Ciaran's strikingly honest sentiments of love and obsession – felt he owed it to the apparently misled teenager to find out as best he could just what twisted mind games he'd been a victim of. The other part wanted to tear him limb from limb, knowing where this whole investigation was going, knowing deep down that there was no other explanation, no excuses... And yet his mind whirred back to another conversation, wrapped in Alex's arms before they'd even got together when she'd asked if he could kill her; he'd said no – of course he had. He was too selfish to let Alex go, he'd thought... but could he blame another man for giving the woman he loved whatever it took to make her happy? Even if it meant sacrificing his own life and happiness to do it?

Gene shivered, his head fighting unfamiliarly with his heart as he considered all the laws he'd ever tried to enforce, all the hatred he'd ever felt for anyone low enough to kill another human being... and then he thought about Alex; Alex, in pain, in tears, in despair and horror, begging for relief, for help, for something that he wasn't allowed to give her, but would cut off his own limbs to attain... He looked at Ciaran, whose gaze hadn't left him for a moment; he didn't know whether to hate him or admire him, and the indecision turned his stomach. The copper in him despised every hair on his head, wanted to tear him limb-from-limb and throw him into a cell with five horny poofters for being such a low form of scum... But then, the part of him that rang so true a reflection of the boy's all-consuming love, felt a striking well of sympathy that would have made the old Gene – the Gene that Sam had known – throw out a string of heartless insults and barbs. Something about Ciaran's desperate love was admirable, even if the bastard had broken the law to follow it through... With a jerk of the head, Gene met Ciaran's eyes once more... but it still didn't make sense, he realized.

"Thought you didn't believe in killin'? Ain't that what you said? Ten commandments and all that bollucks – good rules, yer said..."

"I didn't kill her," Ciaran said flatly. "Killing's violent, it's meaningless, and it's just... it's wrong... I didn't kill her."

"So her windin' up dead weren't anything to do with you?"

He shook his head. "It was to do with me, I just- I didn't kill her."

"Knife wounds, hacked flesh an' blood some sort of voodoo wedding ritual fer you then is it?"

Ciaran flinched, looking away. "It wasn't- I didn't kill her... I just helped her... it wasn't murder it was just-"

"I don't care what you bloody call it," Gene interrupted, fists clenched beneath the table, "did you end her life?"

Though his head was still turned away, a single tear could be seen to escape his eye as Ciaran nodded. "Yes."

Gene looked at him for several moments, watching his shoulders slump and his tears fall. For a moment, he simply sat there, his clenched fists falling slack in his lap before he stood up, half-heartedly jerking Ciaran from his seat before leading him from the room and towards the cells.

"Lock him up," he murmured to Viv, pushing Ciaran away, wanting nothing more than to leave, even as a large pair of hands grasped his wrist, the clinking of cuffs telling Gene all he needed before he had even had the time to look round. When he did, Ciaran's eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down his blood-smeared face, a desperate look in the blue orbs that were so frighteningly reminiscent of Gene's own.

"Tell me I did the right thing," he said softly, ignoring Viv as he attempted to tug him away. Gene gulped, glancing awkwardly at the floor before meeting Ciaran's eyes again, saying nothing. "Please," Ciaran whispered, voice pleading and cracked, "tell me you'd have done the same... Tell me it wasn't for nothing?"

Gene averted his eyes. "The law's the law," he murmured quietly, feeling his throat tighten as Ciaran let out a choked sob. "Don't matter what I would or wouldn't 'ave done..." Unwittingly, he met Ciaran's gaze one final time, knowing that his indecision was evident in his eyes. "I'm just a copper, son- I can't help yer... You want help then you'd better tell it to the judge."

---

**More to come soon with a bit of luck, however, once November 1****st**** comes around, I'll be taking part in the NaNoWriMo challenge 2009, so unless I finish it early, the next TAoL update shall be 1- this week, or 2- December some time.**

**Thanks for your continued support with this story – I hope you're still enjoying it.**

**Another huge thank you to Feline for beta-ing :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	30. Breathe Out, So I Can Breathe You In

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Ok, so, I've got another one done, but that's it until I finish my NaNoWriMo – hope it'll be worth the wait once the next chapters ready, and if I do get some moments of uninspired NaNo time, I'll try and get some of this done too :-)**

**There's a bit of Smut, a teensy bit of plot at the end, and maybe a little warming to a character I can see playing a bigger part than I initially intended – I hope you like it :-)**

**As ever, a huge thank you to all of you for reviewing, and to my wonderful beta for noticing that Gene isn't actually wearing jeans when I get too lost in my own filth-ridden mind :P**

**Mage of the Heart**

**---**

Gene slumped into the chair in his darkened office, the shutters blocking out the hustle and bustle of the rest of CID, the light shut off and the computer whirring loudly to his left. His hand reached subconsciously for the whiskey, pouring half a glassful before throwing it quickly down his throat, grimacing only slightly as the liquid burned him. He'd barely placed the tumbler down before the phone was in his hand, his fingers punching in numbers without thought, twitching with agitation as the dial tone seemed to stretch on forever, echoing in his ears until there was a slight sound of movement, followed by a soft, worn, "hello?"

Gene breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in his body abating almost instantly, the sound of her voice acting as an instant balm to his former worry. "Alex," he murmured softly, "you ok?"

She sighed on the other end, and he could practically see the small twitch of her lip as she smiled tiredly and looked down at her paperwork. "I'll be better when today's over," she admitted. Gene half-smiled, sitting back in his chair and twining the telephone cord absently between his long, elegant fingers before he spoke again.

"Yeah," he murmured, "me too."

There was a small silence, during which Gene closed his eyes, listening to the grate of her breath down the telephone until she spoke again, her voice tentative and shy. "Did he say anything else?"

Gene hesitated, cracking his knuckles briefly before he sighed. "Yeah... he said- said alot else..."

"Are you going to-?"

"Not now," he said, his voice strained and cracked. "Later, Alex," he promised her, his gruff tone softening slightly. "I'll tell you later, just- just not right now, ok?"

"Of course," Alex whispered, "I'm sorry, I just thought- I don't know what I thought... I'm sorry, I just didn't think about-"

Gene chuckled, shaking his head. "Alex, I didn't call you to talk about the case."

"Oh..." she paused, and then added, in a confused voice, "then why are you-?"

"Alex, last time I saw you, you were sobbing like a doped up hippy at a tree's funeral – thought I'd make sure you ain't still blubbering like Niagara Falls, that's all." He drew out his cigarettes, lifting one to his lips and lighting it carefully with one hand before he went on. "If a bloke can't call up 'is bird and make sure she's ok when the last time 'e saw her she was blubbing on his best shirt, when can he?"

"That's sweet, Gene," Alex murmured after a moment of faltering surprise.

"Ain't bloody sweet," he growled defensively, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. "Jus' don't want bloody Harrison sniffin' around yer 'cause he thinks I'm a useless tosser." Holding the cigarette in his fingertips he repeated, "I ain't bloody _sweet_!"

He could practically see Alex's grin as she answered him. "No, Gene," she whispered, "of course you're not..."

They were both silent for several moments, before Gene stubbed out his cigarette, leaning on his armrest and holding the phone gently against his ear. "Alex," he murmured, his voice gently inquisitive, "what's your favourite smell?"

---

"What's your favourite smell?"

Alex blinked, pausing in the motion of tapping her pen as she frowned, trying to make sense of Gene's seemingly absurd question. "My favourite smell?" She repeated, confused.

"Yeah... what is it?"

Alex thought for several moments, resting her chin on her spare hand. Freshly baked bread? Evan's home cooking? Newly mown grass? She thought for several moments, the sound of Gene's breathing soft on her ears, before she smiled. "Your collar," she answered, smiling contentedly to herself.

"'ey?" Gene's reply was confused and bewildered, and Alex could barely contain her laughter as she spoke softly in confirmation.

"Your shirt collar- it's my favourite smell... why'd you ask?"

There was a long pause, Gene apparently turning the words over in his head before he answered. "My_ collar_?" He asked, voice evidently disbelieving. "What's so bloody good about my collar?"

Alex smiled, looking down at her desk and tracing patterns on the paper in front of her. "It smells of you."

He snorted with laughter, delivering a swift reply that was laced with teasing, "What the bloody hell do you think_ I_ smell of?"

"No, I mean, it smells of everything that's- well, everything that's you, I suppose..."

Gene said nothing, and then muttered, "I don't follow."

Alex laughed. "I'll explain it to you later, I have to go."

He sighed reluctantly, and Alex could hear him moving slightly in his chair. "Yeah," he conceded, "I guess you should probably do some work, yer lazy cow. Behave yerself; I'll pick you up later."

"Ok," she smiled, "goodbye."

"Alex," Gene murmured before she could move to put the phone down.

"Yes Gene?"

He hesitated only briefly. "I'd do anything fer you... but I couldn't live without yer."

Alex's eyes began to sting, and she could barely speak above a whisper. "I know, Gene... me too."

"Good," Gene said, nodding his head even though he knew she couldn't see. "Right... I'll come by and get yer later."

---

'Later' couldn't come soon enough.

Having wrapped up two robberies with as little input on his part as was possible, Gene headed up to wait outside Alex's office half an hour early, agitatedly swirling a cup of coffee in his hand. Once, as he looked into the office itself and tried to catch Alex's eye, he thought the Super had seen him, and half-expected to be thoroughly reprimanded and suspended on the spot; as it was, if he'd been noticed, nothing was said, and at six on the dot Alex was leaping from her chair and wrapping her jacket around her shoulders as she headed swiftly towards the door. Gene placed his mug on a nearby box, sparing only a brief moment to press his mouth to hers before he was pulling her from the station, hand firmly wrapped around hers as he led her to the car and got in, only pausing to breathe once they were both settled in their seats.

Alex looked at him carefully as he lolled his head back onto the headrest, reaching over to grasp his hand and squeezing it gently. He looked at her through troubled eyes, leaning over to touch his free hand against her cheek, breaking eye contact to look at her lips as his thumb traced gently across.

"Sorry," he murmured softly, pressing his dry lips to the corner of her mouth, a sigh escaping him as her smell drifted teasingly into his nostrils enveloping him in a warm haze. "Just needed to get out of there..." He drew slowly away from her and turned the key in the ignition, his tense body relaxing slightly as Alex reached across to rest her hand on his knee, smiling at him softly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She spoke tentatively, stroking his leg gently as she tried to meet his eyes.

Gene sighed, shaking his head and looking round with heat in his gaze, boring into her as he spoke, his voice gruff and loaded, full of need and teeming with desire. "No," he murmured, "not right now... Right now, I want a drink, and I want you... and preferably not in that order." His eyes traced the length of her body almost greedily, rendering him ignorant of the way she bit her lip in anticipation, or the slight nervous knot that gathered in her stomach as he turned his rapidly darkening eyes on the road.

Gene didn't say anything else, pressing his foot down and speeding down the street with his jaw tight and eyes fixed on the road. Alex gulped, gently tracing patterns in his knee whenever she felt him tense up, watching his face carefully as his eyes remained resolutely fixed on the road. The moment after they'd turned into their drive, he was out of the car, keys in hand, unlocking the front door before Alex had even had the time to step out from the car. She followed him slowly, stomach bubbling with nervous anticipation as she stepped over the threshold, watching Gene as he swiftly and methodically removed his overcoat, placing it on the coat-hook and loosening his tie, his eyes not leaving her as she shrugged out of her own jacket and kicked her boots off at the door.

Barely a moment later, Gene had crossed the space between them, his mouth pressing down onto hers with a tenderness that wholly contradicted the previous heat of his gaze, and the fierce strength of his hold. Alex slid her arms around him, allowing him to pull her closer to him, his tight hold on her absolute as he slid his hands to cover her arse, grinding his hips slowly against hers. He moved his mouth away sedately, passing across her jaw, down her neck and across the shoulder bared by her top.

"Need you," he murmured, fingers sliding to the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly, barely allowing his mouth to leave her skin as he drew it up and off her body. "Always need you, Alex..." his hands caressed up her bare back, reaching the strap of her bra and gently sliding it free, before drawing the wispy material down her arms and discarding it on the wood-panelled floor. Alex sighed, her fingers loosening his tie slowly, drawing it free from around his neck before her fingers moved to his chest, deftly unbuttoning his shirt halfway before abandoning it, her hands sliding into his hair. Gene moved his lips to her neck once again, sucking, nibbling, biting and kissing at the tender skin while his fingers slid easily to the waistband of her jeans, popping the button and lowering the zip with deliberate slowness.

"Gene..." Alex murmured, tilting her head to the side to encourage the passionate assault on her neck, her breath coming short as she pushed her hips gently against his hand, feeling his fingers tease beneath the denim of her jeans, stroking her lightly through the sheer fabric of her knickers. "Gene, maybe we should go upstairs?" She gasped as he slid her underwear aside, two fingers entering her swiftly as he groaned into her neck.

"Too bloody far," he growled, pressing her into the wall as his free hand pushed her trousers and knickers down her body, the other continuing to move slowly within her as she sighed and gasped in his ear. She awkwardly kicked her clothes off, simultaneously reaching for his trousers as he pushed the full length of his body against hers, his erection pressing firmly into her thigh, her breasts crushed into his chest whilst his thumb repeatedly drew gentle caresses across her clit.

"Never have enough of you," he groaned, gently sucking at her earlobe as her hand slid beneath the band of his boxer shorts, grasping him confidently as his fingers continued to thrust softly into her. "Love how you feel," he murmured, spare hand trailing up to cover her right breast just as his mouth descended on the other. "And how you taste..." he breathed, before sucking gently on her tautened nipple as if for emphasis.

After several moments, he tugged her hand away from him, sliding down to his knees and leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as he moved further down her body, inhaling softly. "And how you smell... God, I love your smell..." he lifted one leg gently onto his shoulders, kissing his way up the inside of her thigh, breathing in through his nose and feeling her shiver with desire as he moved to her centre, his tongue flicking out to touch her folds while one hand slid tenderly over the flesh of her thigh, drawing teasing patterns into her soft skin whilst he sought out her clit, sucking and licking until she was quaking against him, her delicate hands buried in his soft-blonde hair.

Gene pulled away when she was trembling on the brink, ignoring her cries of protest as he moved his mouth to her thigh, biting gently and leaving a red mark before sliding his fingers to the quick of her, looking up to meet her eyes as she stared down at him.

"Tell me you want it," he murmured, stroking her softly. "I need to hear it... how much do you want me?"

Alex gasped, nodding, attempting to pull his head towards her as he watched her through smouldering eyes.

"Say it, Alex," he growled, his spare hand squeezing gently at her arse. "Tell me..."

"I want it," Alex whispered, "Please, Gene, I do- so much!"

"What d'you want?" He asked, shifting almost imperceptibly closer. "Tell me, and I'll give it to you..." Eyes softening slightly, mouth whispering across her thigh, he whispered, "I'd give you anything, Alex..."

She sobbed in frustration, pushing her hips forward as she tried to speak. "Need- I want to come..." She gasped, tugging at his hair. "Please Gene, please make me come!"

Gene smirked, teasingly flexing his fingers inside her before he moved closer, not once breaking eye contact, his fingers pumping faster as his mouth closed around her clit, watching Alex's face as her whole body went rigid with pleasure, the orgasm taking her over, shaking her body violently for several long moments.

When she finally stilled, Alex slumped against the wall, Gene removing her leg from his shoulder and tugging her easily down to the floor, his mouth finding hers swiftly as he rolled her onto her back, one hand pushing his trousers and boxers low on his hips, freeing his erection before settling himself between her legs and pushing into her smoothly, his eyes closed as her tongue tangled softly with his.

He pulled his mouth away, whispering softly in her ear as he thrust gently into her. "Love you..." he told her, throat tight. "More than anything..." soft lips found her neck, his breath coming fast as he increased the speed of his entry, gasping as she pushed herself up against him. "I'll forget to tell you," he whispered, "don't mean it ain't true though – love you... I love you..." His mouth found hers once again, hips moving harder and faster into her, pinning her to the floor as he groaned out his pleasure.

Alex gasped into Gene's mouth, biting down on his bottom lip as she swiftly knocked his elbow out from under him, rolling him onto his back and groaning as he thrust up into her, his hands on her hips as she began to ride him, her mouth tearing away from his. Straddling him, she rested her hands on his thighs, her head thrown back in abandon as she moved, while Gene lifted himself onto his elbows, watching her, transfixed as her breasts moved, as he watched himself disappear into her, as the thin sheen of sweat began to coat her body... Her hands reached up to cover her breasts, kneading them slowly as she met his gaze, still moving along his length with deliberate sedateness as she gave him that sexy little smile that made him want to burst...

"Fuck!" Gene gasped, lifting himself upright and wrapping his arms firmly around her, mouth assaulting her neck as his hand slid down between them, teasing, stroking, driving her further towards orgasm as she slammed her hips down onto his. He bit her hard as she clenched around him, her moan loud in his ears as she shook violently in his arms. He froze, biting back his own release, flipping her firmly onto her back, barely pausing to lift her legs over his shoulders before he powered back into her, gripping her thighs as he looked down at her, both pairs of eyes glazed with desire and lust as she writhed beneath him. Alex watched his face greedily as his mouth fell slack with pleasure, the length of him plunging into her over and over as sweat dripped from his brow, falling intimately onto her lips.

"Yes..." Alex gasped, pulling his mouth to hers before moving to whisper in his ear, voice cracking slightly as he continued to thrust, a deep growl emanating from within his chest at every movement. "I love you, Ge- oh god! – I love you!" She was practically sobbing, her nails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt, clawing at him as he grunted, resting his face in her neck as her hips echoed the movements of his own. Her gasps and moans echoed in Gene's ears as he pushed into her relentlessly, until, eventually, as Alex threw her head back for the third time and let out a piercing moan, he released inside her, his whole body shaking with the force of his release.

With a groan, he withdrew from her, lowering her legs from his shoulders before he collapsed onto her, sated and incapable of movement as he pressed barely-there kisses to the soft skin of her shoulder, closing his eyes to the sound of their heavy breathing...

----

"Gene?" Alex managed eventually, drawing him from his private reverie, running her hand lightly down his back and beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Mmmph," he grunted, shifting slightly to prevent crushing her, resting his head beside hers.

"You're still wearing all your clothes," she whispered, tugging absently at his shirt.

"Yeah..." Gene murmured, not moving. "You ain't though..." His hand strayed to her breast as he spared her a lewd grin through half-lidded eyes, "I like that..." Alex grinned despite herself, shifting against him and lightly kissing the pulse at his neck. His shirt collar brushed her nose and she smiled, lifting her hand to tug it lightly with her fingers, feeling him frown against her before drawing back to meet her gaze.

"Still smell good does it, Bolly-no-knickers?" he smirked slightly, tenderly tracing her cheek with fingers that couldn't help but tremble. She smiled.

"Yes, Gene," she murmured, meeting his eyes, "it still smells good."

He held her gaze for a long time, eyes soft on hers, before sighing. "I'll never understand you women," he told her, kissing her cheek softly. "It's just a shirt..."

Her lip twitched, and she shook her head. "It's _your_ shirt," she said, grinning. "And it smells like you; whiskey, cigarettes, Old Spice and man-stink..." with a devilish smirk, followed by a swift kiss to the corner of his mouth, she whispered, "makes my rump quiver every time!"

Gene laughed, sliding his arms beneath her before rolling them both to the side, hand moving to rest lightly on her waist. He kissed her, his mouth soft, yet insistent and warm against hers, his head swimming. When he pulled away, his eyes were tender, breath short as he rested his forehead against her own, his skilled fingers gently tracing delicate patterns on her skin.

"He's a killer, Alex," he murmured eventually, fingers gently caressing her waist. "He's a killer- but he ain't a criminal... He doesn't deserve what's comin' his way."

Alex blinked, surprised, meeting his eyes and seeing the certainty in his expression. She gulped, stroking his cheek. "He told you then?" She asked, biting her lip.

He nodded, pulling her even closer as he whispered into her ear, kissing lightly at the base beforehand. "I'm a selfish bugger, Alex," he told her honestly, eyes closed tight as he spoke. "I might do it for yer, but I wouldn't bloody stick around ter live with it..."

Tears pricked at Alex's eyes, but before she could say anything, before she could tell him that she would never ask him to do such a thing for her, Gene had disentangled himself, standing up to pull his trousers back around his waist. She watched him sadly, seeing the way he kept his eyes averted, saying nothing until, almost unexpectedly, he held out a hand for her. She took it hesitantly, allowing him to draw her up to her feet and pull her into the circle of his arms, his eyes still not meeting hers.

"You should put some clothes on," he murmured softly, his nose buried in her hair, eyes closed tight as he attempted to breathe regularly, "else I'll end up shaggin' yer again – an' I ain't sure I didn't get a splinter in me arse from them floorboards."

Alex smiled gently, resting her hand across his chest and feeling the steady thump of his heart. "Was it worth it?" she asked, grinning shyly up at him. He chortled as he met her eyes, seeing the worry and the mischief combined before kissing her forehead softly.

"Yeah, Bols, it was."

For several moments, he said nothing, holding her tight, before, quite unexpectedly, he released her from his hold, shrugging quickly out of his shirt and draping it around her shoulders. He made a noise of approval as she slid her arms obediently into the sleeves, and proceeded to help her as she slowly buttoned it up, smirking when she turned her face and lifted the collar to her nose with a sigh of contentment.

Picking up her discarded knickers with a grin, Gene grinned. "And these," he said, pushing them into her hand as he bent to kiss her cheek, "you should probably put these back on an' all..." In a husky growl, he added, "you know how much I like ripping 'em off!"

He was about to move into the kitchen when her hand caught his wrist, tugging him gently back. He met her eyes with a frown as she spoke softly to him, her voice full of worry and concern. "Gene... I do lo-"

Gene pulled her into him before she could finish, covering her mouth with his and kissing her softly.

"I know," he whispered afterwards, stroking her hair for several minutes, watching her with piercing blue eyes before lowering his mouth to hers for another brief kiss. "Come on," he murmured, taking her hand in his as he drew her towards the kitchen. "I need a drink."

----

As Gene walked her up the stairs to her office the next morning, he could feel his stomach tighten, feel the worry smouldering in his gut at the realization that he would have to talk to Ciaran again; they'd had a confession, yes, and though he wished he could have been putting the whole of the sorry mess to rest and moving on to the next case, he knew there were loose ends everywhere, that just because Ciaran confessed didn't prove he'd done it...

But before he could talk to him, he realized, he felt as though he had to establish Rosa's feelings for Ciaran as firmly as he had established the boys. There was a fierce sense of male solidarity burning within his chest, and the worry that the whole situation was based on false beliefs made Gene's stomach roil with anger. As Alex slid into his arms outside the double doors, her fingers tracing over his back as he kissed her softly, her perfume began to permeate his nostrils, causing him to sigh with relief as he tightened his hold on her.

"How many more days d'you need to sit up here?" He growled as he pulled away, hands tightening on her hips, his eyes dark. Alex sighed, stroking his lightly stubbled cheek with the back of her hand.

"Eighteen and counting – not including weekends," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt him sigh, heard the low growl of annoyance in his chest as he bent down to murmur in her ear.

"Too bloody long," he told her softly. "Miss watching you wiggle that arse of yours about... DI Franklin's ok at his job fer the most part, but his arse ain't anywhere near as peachy." He nibbled lightly at her earlobe before adding, practically inaudibly, "an' I need you down there- bloody hate dealing with this bollucks on me own when all he's got yer doing is fannying about with paperwork!"

Alex sighed, pulling away reluctantly. "I wish I was down there too... but unless you plan on begging Harrison to let me do something useful, then it isn't going to happen, and-"

"Y'know, that ain't a bad idea, Bolly," Gene said, glancing into the office with a frown. "Is 'e in yet?"

"Gene, I was joking!" Alex panicked, voice rising in pitch slightly. "You can't seriously be considering going in and-?"

"Bloody can!" Gene retorted, craning his neck as he saw Harrison walk into the main room clasping a cup of coffee in one hand. "Bloody am!" He gave her a brief squeeze before walking away, pushing open the double doors with his overcoat billowing behind him, showing no sign of hesitation, even as Alex squeaked her immediate protest.

"Hunt," Harrison nodded politely, showing no sign of surprise, lifting the coffee to his lips with apathy as Alex walked in, her face livid with embarrassment. Gene thought he saw a grin tug at the Superintendents mouth before he was being pointed towards the office, sparing Alex a brief half-apologetic glance before stepping inside.

Harrison followed, shutting the door and moving to settle in the leather chair behind his desk. "I take it you're here to beg for Drake's return following a major breakthrough in some case I've never heard of, nor want to?" He smirked, eyebrow raised in amusement. Gene's fists clenched slightly in his pocket, jaw tightening briefly before he shook his head.

"Not exactly, Sir – we've had a confession for the McKellen murder. DI Drake might be useful in the old psychiatry part of it, and I thought-"

"Psychology," Harrison murmured, absently lifting his coffee to his lips and smirking as the vein in Gene's jaw leapt. He waited a moment, and then sat up. "This'll be from the blonde lad you dragged in yesterday, I presume?"

Gene gulped, momentarily taken aback, but nodded his head slowly. "Yeah- Ciaran Merlot."

The Superintendents eyebrows disappeared into his hairline for a brief moment, and Gene could only assume it was in recognition of the name, but Harrison proceeded by simply inclining his head in polite enquiry, indicating that Gene should continue.

"Says he was 'elping 'er..." Gene said tentatively, "'she wasn't happy with Bragden, an' apparently the poor sod's loved 'er fer years."

Harrison chuckled dryly, setting his cup down and shaking his head. "Poor sod indeed." He waited a brief moment before adding softly, "do you believe him?"

Averting his eyes so as to disguise the unease boiling away in his stomach, Gene nodded. "Sounded nancy enough to me..."

"So DI Drake will be doing what, exactly? Poking him with needles and asking insightful questions into their relationship? I'm sure you're more than capable of doing that yourself if you put your mind to it, Hunt- need I remind you that she's working on my floor because of your failure to behave responsibly?" He lit a cigarette as he spoke, eyes not leaving Gene as he sat back in his chair. "I'll need more than a pathetic excuse of profiling; DI Franklin's more than capable if that's what you're after... And he hasn't got breasts to distract you from doing your job, either..." A small smirk settled into place, but Gene ignored it.

"With respect, Sir, DI Drake's followed this case since day one. Franklin's gone over some case notes and keeps acting like he thinks he's bloody Jesus with all the preaching he's doin' 'bout bloody suspects and interrogation!"

It wasn't exactly true, Gene conceded inwardly, but it wasn't far off. Alex's replacement had made several digs at the overall management of the case, and the poor handling of the Ellison interview, before Gene had shouted him down and placed him on tea duty for the next month, much to the delight of everyone else – Shaz, in particular, had seen fit to take advantage.

To the amusement of the rest of the team, Franklin had then seen fit to complain about the Guv's methods, resulting in a fist in the face from Ray and some reasonably acidic remarks from both Shaz and Chris, albeit from the safety of the kitchen when Franklin was either busy at his desk or out on a call – Gene had half-heartedly reminded them to respect their senior officer, but he didn't think any of them had listened to him... Not that he'd minded.

"Plus," Gene went on, "she knows how to handle that whole cognitty-wotsitty sorta interview thing..." he trailed off at the end, waving his hand in hopelessness as the Super continued to watch him with amusement. With a sigh, he added, "she's always goin' on about it, I just ain't got-"

"I'm positive that I have no idea what you're talking about," Harrison interrupted with a smirk, taking another drag on the cigarette in his hand. "But it doesn't change the fact that, if you were to inform DI Franklin of the case properly, he'd be more than capable of providing the same results you seem to expect DI Drake to reap on her return..." He looked away briefly, flicking the ash into the tray on his desk as he exhaled softly. "Though I suppose," he mused, "that the fact she came down to interview Merlot in her lunch yesterday helped...?" he quirked an eyebrow daringly. "Am I wrong?"

Gene ground his teeth, shaking his head. "No Sir, you're not-"

"This against my explicit orders for her to remain on desk duty?" He let Gene stew, watching the vein in his head pulsing violently as he attempted to calm himself. Eventually, he shrugged, putting his feet up on the desk as he spoke. "Well," he said, "if the fact she came up here afterwards looking like a blubbering wreck was anything to go by, I'd have to confess to being more than a little concerned about her emotional ability to work this case; seems a little more involved than can be considered healthy, at least from where I'm sitting..." Harrison stubbed out his cigarette, flicking the dead end into the bin without looking.

"Just 'cause she's a bird and she cares and she got a bit choked up don't make her any less of a bloody good copper!" Gene snapped defensively, briefly forgetting himself, but resisting the inevitable apology when he saw the look of vague respect in the other mans eyes. He gulped, awaiting Harrison's response with a grimace.

"I'm fully aware of that, Hunt," Harrison said softly, taking a sip of his drink and letting the room fall into silence again. Gene waited only a moment before he nodded, moving towards the door without saying another word.

"I got a call from your old Superintendent yesterday," Harrison said as Gene's hand reached the door. Gene blinked, looking around in confusion as the Super continued to speak, almost wistfully. "He was sorry you hadn't dropped by to see him, but didn't blame you under the circumstances... he sends his sympathies, by the way." At that, he met Gene's eyes, looking thoughtful for several moments as Gene ground his teeth. "I'm not punishing you for bloody sentiment, Hunt; I'm not such a heartless bastard that you can't go to your mother's funeral, but you can't just swan off with your bloody deputy at the drop of a hat!"

Gene swallowed, throat tight as he nodded grimly. "Yes, Sir," he managed, eyes averted.

Harrison took a deep breath, sitting forward on his desk as he spoke. "Them blokes downstairs – Carling and Skelton- they worship you, Hunt; takes a lot to break that sort of loyalty – just set them a good example next time, alright?"

"Yes, Sir." Gene said again, hands in pockets as he clenched his fists against the anger in his stomach.

Harrison stood up, walking to the door as he drew out another cigarette, lighting it swiftly as he looked out of the glass panelled door. "She wears your ring like a bloody beacon, y'know?" He murmured thoughtfully. Gene blinked, saying nothing but meeting Harrison's eyes carefully, surprised by the change in conversation.

The Super shrugged, blowing smoke softly as he nodded again towards Alex; looking, Gene could see her nervously twisting the ring, glancing apprehensively at the clock, and then back at the door, looking quickly away when he made eye contact and pretending to busy herself with work. A smile tugged at the corners of Gene's mouth, but he said nothing as Harrison spoke again.

"Least, I assume it's yours..." the wry amusement in Harrison's voice was hard to ignore, and Gene found himself biting at the inside of his mouth as he continued to watch Alex in order to distract himself from the innate need to land a punch on the other mans nose. "If I were you," Harrison went on, "I'd shove that thing on the next finger pretty damn fast!" With a meaningful look in his direction that caused Gene to frown, he added, "she's a keeper, Hunt, and I'm not denying it; s'long as you're not thinking with your dick when you're on the job, you may as well seal the deal before she scurries off with some smug bastard of a lawyer - just don't forget who wears the trousers at work."

He opened the door dismissively, nodding Gene out as he did so, ignoring the frown on his face. "Make sure you get a result with the McKellen case, Hunt; the mother's been kicking up a fuss in jail 'cause she still doesn't know which bastard killed her baby." He hesitated only slightly before he nodded at Alex, drawing on his cigarette before he spoke again, voice calm. "Get going with that one and all; just don't go pissing on your rank again, else I'll forget to be so lenient- understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Gene muttered, eyebrows knitted into a frown. "Cheers, an' all, we'll get-"

"You're getting the drinks in every night for the next month, Hunt," Harrison smirked, leaning against the door frame casually. "And that includes weekends." With a grin, he turned back into his office and closed the door.

---

Gene blinked once, twice, three times, then turned around, walking towards Alex's desk in a slight state of confusion before he jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Come on, Bollykecks, pick yer knickers up off the floor sharpish- you've got work to do."

Alex stared at him, and then glanced uncertainly towards Harrison's office. "How did you-?"

Gene interrupted, hoisting her from her chair and steering her towards the door, "don't bloody know, and don't bloody care, but if you've got two brain-cells in that pretty skull of yours you'll get down them stairs before he changes his mind!"

With a gentle nudge, he pushed her through the door, smirking smugly as she continued to look completely baffled. "Gene, what did you say to him, and why is he-?"

"I'm buyin' his drinks fer a month, and you're solving the McKellen case with your mind-boggling insights into complete psychiatrical bollucks- got it?" His hand closed around her elbow as he steered her down the stairs, jerking her back when they reached the double doors and pulling her against his chest. Alex looked up at him, still baffled.

"But, he put me on desk for a month! How did you-?"

"Oh bloody hell," Gene growled, rolling his eyes. "What is it with you bloody psychiatrists always wanting to know the answer to absolutely everything?"

"I'm just-"

"Y'know, some blokes might get a blowjob for what I just did," he teased lightly, eyes hot as he murmured in her ear, "is my little psychiatrist gunna give me one of those later?"

Alex smirked up at him, shaking her head slowly. "Oh I don't think that's going to be possible, since you're going to be _very_ busy entertaining Superintendent Harrison..." she trailed a hand lightly over his chest and then sighed, smiling sadly up at him. "So I suppose she'll just have to entertain herself until you get home..." With a smirk, she drew away from him, pushing through the doors and adding with a grin, "and it's Psychologist, Gene, not Psychiatrist- I will most definitely _not_ be shrinking _you_." With a lewd glance downwards, and after seeing his eyes widen in surprise, she sashayed into CID. Gene gulped, running a hand through his hair before following her, freezing in place when he saw the woman stood angrily in front of Gene's office.

The moment Gene entered, he saw anger and recognition dawn in her eyes, before she was stalking towards him and jabbing him fiercely in the chest. Over her shoulder, Gene could see Ray shrugging apologetically.

"So you're the bastard who's gunna shove my little brother in jail?"

---

**Ciao for now! I hope you enjoyed it, and look forward to hearing from you. To any fellow NaNoWriMo writers this year, best of luck :-) **

**Thank you as ever for the lovely feedback, and comments etc guys :-) **

**Hope the smut can keep you warm until the story's back in the pipeline!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	31. If You Didn't Love Me

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Finally back from NaNoWriMo with the next chapter – it's not a smutty one, but I hope it's ok and will have been worth the wait.**

**Enjoy!**

**---**

Sophia Merlot might have convinced Gene that she was a naturally dark-haired woman a few months ago, but looking at her now, with her hair grown out several inches at the scalp, it was easy to see that she had once shared her brothers' brilliantly blonde hair, before deciding to turn brunette. The diamond stud was still through her nose, but the thick makeup which had adorned her face before was missing, and Gene couldn't help but think that she was much more attractive without it, though somehow the look of rage contorted what would have been attractive features into ones of such profound ugliness ,that he was surprised he managed to avoid glancing away.

She was dressed in an outfit that looked to have been thrown on without prior consideration- a smart pair of work trousers, haphazardly put together with a pair of white trainers and a t-shirt that read 'make love not war'. Gene vaguely pondered the irony that her brother had killed in the name of love at the sight of it, but quickly drew his eyes away when he caught Alex glaring at him in his peripheral vision, realizing that his gaze must quite openly be resting on Sophia's chest.

"Well?" Sophia snapped, glancing from Alex to Gene with evident disgust. "Haven't you got anything to say for yourselves? He's seventeen years old!"

Gene's anger flared, and almost immediately his retort had burst from his lips. "Well if 'e wasn't such a scummy little bastard, we wouldn' 'ave had ter arrest the little twat!"

"Gene, maybe we should-?" Alex was stopped as Sophia delivered a stinging slap to Gene's face, her own cheeks flushed red with anger and loathing.

"Yer wanna be careful, love," Gene growled, grabbing her wrist when she drew her hand to execute a second blow and jerking her arm behind her back in a swift movement. "Else you'll be chucked in the cells with yer dirty scrotum of a brother fer assaulting a police officer!"

"Gene," Alex hissed warningly, glancing at Ray, Chris and Shaz, who were all stood staring at them with blank expressions on their faces, even as Alex went on through gritted teeth. "Maybe we should take this into your office?"

Gene ground his jaw slightly, releasing Sophia and pushing her hard in the back, indicating with his hand that she should lead the way into the office at the end of the room. For a moment, she looked as though she might refuse, glowering at the two of them, before turning sharply on her heel and slamming in ahead of them. Alex drew Gene back slightly before he followed, talking quietly to him so that the others wouldn't hear. "Do I assume," she asked, her voice falsely sweet, "that this is 'Jessie'?"

Ignoring the inevitable finger waggle, Gene simply nodded at her, eyes dark with annoyance, not looking away from the office, where he could already see Sophia settling herself self-importantly into his chair. Anger roiling away in his stomach, he tore his eyes away to prevent breaking something and met Alex's gaze. She looked even more pissed than he felt; he gulped. "What've I done now?" He sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair and waiting for the onslaught.

When it came, it was surprisingly calm, and he felt his stomach knotting nervously; he'd rather she yelled- it was better if she yelled, although he had no reason to believe that he'd ever be that lucky. "Oh nothing," she said softly, eyes unreasonably hard on his. "Did you enjoy your perusal of her chest?" She glared at him pointedly, and then went on. "Are her breasts to your satisfaction? Would you like to carry on staring, or shall we get on with some work now?"

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Bols," Gene murmured, eyes darkening slightly, "else I might 'ave to convince yer that I'd rather be shaggin' you." His voice was teasing, eyes glinting with mischief, but he already knew that she would fail to see the amusement in the situation.

"Jealousy is an unattractive trait, Gene," she informed him, still smiling in that falsely sweet manner which spoke volumes about her real feelings. "But I would advise that you pick up your jaw next time; I don't think she's particularly keen on your advances at the moment."

"Alex," Gene sighed, "don't get all pissy; I was just reading the-"

"I've got a job to do, Gene," Alex said, her eyes flashing. "Perhaps when you've finished ogling, you'll remember that you have one too!"

A moment later, she'd sashayed into the office, and Gene was left feeling utterly bemused by the sudden jealous turn in Alex's personality, seeing Ray's confused look as his superior officer's chilling moods settled around the room. With a grind of the teeth, Gene followed Alex into his office, hoping that she wouldn't think he wanted to shag Shaz when he thanked her for the steaming cup of coffee she pressed into his hands.

----

Alex closed the door and rested her forehead against the wood, breathing heavily as she struggled to collect herself. She'd never felt jealous with Gene before – not really, anyway, except for that one time in the Psychologists office, and when he slept with the stripper... But in truth, aside from those occasions before their relationship began, she had rarely had the time to feel anything for him but uncontrollable lust, and Gene's attention had never really wavered long enough since then for her to question his loyalty. She wasn't even sure there was anything to be jealous about- Ray and Chris had both been ogling Sophia's breasts just as much, and Alex herself had noted the irony of the slogan adorning the t-shirt enough to have probably elicited rumours were any of the other members of CID to have noticed...

And it wasn't like she really believed Gene would consider it; he had admitted to her in the past that he had had affairs during his marriage, but Alex didn't believe for a moment that he would do that now. It had been a very odd, primitive feeling, rising up in her chest and threatening to burst out at the sight she had been confronted with, one that she had felt only once before, a very long time ago... Feeling ridiculous, pushing away the reminders of her marriage, she resolved to apologize to Gene at the first opportunity, and ignore the odd, burning sensation in her stomach that had ignited when Gene's gaze had drifted.

The door opened, and she leapt backwards as Gene walked in, frowning at her in confusion before shutting the door behind him and turning his gaze on Sophia, almost as though he hadn't seen Alex at all; she felt her stomach tighten considerably- she couldn't help it.

"Next time you fancy walkin' in 'ere with yer knickers pulled so far up yer arse your voice rises an octave, you better do it quietly and resist slappin' a senior officer if you wanna keep your scrawny arse out of jail, yer got that?" Gene's voice was aggravated, and Alex didn't bother to say anything, feeling a slight ebbing of her irrational jealousy at the angry tone. Sophia stood up and walked around the desk, stalking right up to Gene and pushing her face in front of his.

"You've locked up my little brother without a lawyer, and he's not even eighteen!" Sophia's eyes flashed, and Gene's narrowed on hers as he towered over her, his blue gaze unwavering as he replied without hesitation or concern, voice strong and low, brimming with determined stubbornness as he kept his face on a level with hers.

"No," he conceded, smirking slightly, "but 'e has pleaded guilty to murder, so pardon yer worship if I don't give two shits how old 'e is; he ain't gettin' out."

"And I suppose your Superintendent knows about your little excursion into the Black Bull right?" She replied, evidently thinking she had got one over on him, but frowning when Gene chuckled and stepped back, leaning against the door of the office barely an inch away from Alex, who kept her lips sealed, her stomach still tied in knots.

"Superintendent Harrison gets daily reports on every case we look into, love; he knows about the pub, he knows about your kid brothers' confession, and 'e knows the name of every little scrote in the whole damn investigation... So yeah, I'd say he's pretty well informed, wouldn't you, Bols?" He looked at Alex meaningfully, eyes silently searching for reassurance. The tight knot loosened slightly, as he did so, and she managed a slight smile before nodding, turning to meet Sophia's gaze with a falsely warm smile.

"I'd say he's quite knowledgeable, yes," she said. "In fact, I think we handed over the tape of Ciaran's discussion yesterday afternoon, and I do believe his report was one of great interest and satisfaction, and- pending further inquest- we should be in court within-" she paused for effect, glancing at Gene as though in inquisition, "two months, I think it was, wasn't it?"

Gene smirked, nodding and glancing questioningly at Sophia, "anything else, love?"

---

They managed to get rid of her within half an hour, and Alex could hear Gene's sigh of relief as she slammed angrily out of the station, having demanded a conversation with her brother, which was permitted, on the simple condition that Viv sat in with her; she refused, and, after a spell of insulting the whole of the team with some highly colourful expletives that had impressed even Gene, she had conceded defeat and stormed out of CID without another word.

Now, Alex was seated on the edge of Gene's desk, slightly unnerved by the silence that descended, still unsure of herself and standing up quickly, sliding from her position and moving towards the door. She was surprised when Gene appeared behind her, one arm snaking around her waist and drawing her back against him, whilst the hand that was not curled around her hip awkwardly shuttered the blinds, before he twisted her around to look at him, his eyes searching.

"What's got into you?" He murmured, gently stroking one hand down her cheek, eyes travelling over her face as his eyebrows knitted together with confusion. "I thought I was the jealous one 'ere, not you?" He meant it to sound teasing, but Alex's eyes averted and he worried that he had said the wrong thing. "Alex, I'm-"

"I wasn't jealous Gene, I just don't like you staring at-" She stopped, biting her lip as she realized what she was about to say, how very similar it was to many of his past arguments. Gene chuckled, tugging her closer and nibbling lightly at her ear.

"Think you've been spendin' too much time with me, Bolly," he laughed softly, stroking her hair. Alex laughed too, resting her head on his chest and smiling to herself as he pressed his lips lightly to her forehead.

"Sorry," she whispered, "it's just... I suppose, with the whole- well... if we want kids, then I don't want to be-"

Gene spluttered with disbelief, drawing slightly away and staring at her with wide eyes. "Alex, d'you really think I'm gunna go off an' shag some floozy when I've got you waitin' fer me at 'ome?" He shook his head, bewilderment evident on his features. "Christ, Bolly; you're more of a fruitcake than I first thought."

She smiled, allowing her arms to slide around his back and burrowing her face in his shirt with a sigh, shaking her head. "No... I didn't think you would really, I just-" she shrugged, then said, in a laughing, disbelieving voice, "I'm going mad!" She half-laughed, before pressing her face closer still to his chest and breathing in deeply, his scent filling her. It wasn't strictly true, she thought to herself. At least there was some sense of rationality behind her jealousy, and it wasn't like- her thoughts were interrupted as she felt his hand slide beneath her blouse, caressing the warm flesh at the base of her back with gentle, warm, elegant fingers.

"Well," Gene grinned smugly, his head resting on hers. "Shaggin' the Gene Genie senseless every night does that to a girl – you're only human, Bols." She smiled, but shook her head, sliding her hand into his and leading him around the desk towards his chair, indicating that he should sit down. He did so, drawing her into his arms and settling her against his chest, hand on her thigh as she pressed a soft kiss to his neck, eliciting a soft groan.

"Super's gunna 'ave me bollucks if 'e finds yer like this..." he murmured, making no move to push her away; Alex smiled.

"Buy him a drink; he'll forgive you." She spoke teasingly, kissing his cheek lightly and tracing her fingers down his arm, just as he stroked up her leg with his large hand.

"Alex," he said softly, seriously, turning his head to hers. "Why'd yer think I'd cheat on yer if we're tryin' fer-?"

He stopped when she looked away, tears causing her eyes to glisten in the light. He swore under his breath, tugging her closer and murmuring apologetically in her ears. "Sorry," he said repeatedly, kissing her ear lightly. "Really... I'm bein' a twonk. Jus'-"

"You're not," Alex said softly, resting her hand against his chest. "I shouldn't be jealous, Gene- I know that. It's just that... well..." she trailed off, placing her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes to the feel of his fingers combing through her hair.

"Yer 'usband?" he asked, feeling a lump form in his throat as he glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed, but it didn't stop the tears escaping, squeezing themselves from beneath her eyelids as she nodded slowly, her teeth making a small indent in her lip that he wanted desperately to kiss away. Instead, he cupped her face, stroking lightly from forehead to chin until her eyes flickered open, looking up at him sadly.

"What 'appened?" Gene murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Alex shrugged, stroking his tie dotingly. After waiting a few moments, Gene caught her hand in his, reclining in the chair and looking at her with a disbelieving raised eyebrow. "Bols, I ain't gunna cheat on yer with-"

"He said sex was a chore," Alex said softly, and she couldn't help but smile as Gene's eyebrows flew up into his hairline, hand slipping suggestively up over her arse.

"Can't 'ave been doin' it right then," he said, smirking as his hand tickled the backs of her thighs, causing her to shiver and press closer to him. Alex flushed red and rolled her eyes, hand stroking his neck lightly as she went on.

"We'd said we were going to start trying... it was only a year or so after we got married, so it wasn't like we'd outdone the honeymoon period... but I- I was desperate for a child... we spent months barely talking, simply having sex and going to work, and having sex again... Peter didn't like it; he said it wasn't the same when I'd stop in the middle of a blowjob so that he could finish in-"

"Ok, Bols, I don't need a bloody description!" Gene shifted uncomfortably, tugging her slightly closer into the circle of his arms. After a moment, he frowned. "Thought yer didn't plan fer Molly?"

Alex shrugged. "We stopped trying after a while... when it wasn't happening, we just said we'd leave it, let it happen naturally... Barely slept together for two months, and then suddenly, just as I'd gotten used to the idea of waiting, convinced myself it didn't matter right away, we had sex once and I was pregnant." She smiled sadly up at him, seeing the concern in his eyes as her own brimmed with unshed tears. "And then I found out..."

"Found out what?" Gene asked, bemused. "That you were preggers?"

She laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "No. Being pregnant is a very intuitive period... suddenly everything made sense; my senses were heightened, and I had an awful craving for human contact, and when he came home late at night, I could smell perfume all over him... I ignored it. Didn't say a thing... I suppose I thought that, if I waited until the baby came, he'd realize that he loved me and still wanted us to be a family..."

"Did he?" Gene asked, knowing the answer already, even as he tightened his hold on her.

She shook her head again, looking down at their hands and speaking in a quiet, soft voice. "About two months into the pregnancy, he said we should stop having sex altogether... I mean, there's speculation that it harms the baby, but that's not until at least six months... But I didn't say anything- kept telling myself he'd realize soon, and he'd stop sleeping with other people..."

"Jesus, Alex," Gene muttered, holding her tight. "I thought you were a ballsy cow the second yer popped out of the womb! Yer should've smacked the bastard in the nuts!"

She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of him. "I wasn't very ballsy at all until after the divorce... I knew Psychology, and I knew I was behaving like a fool, but I was convinced that I couldn't bring up a child on my own; Ev- my Godfather had always struggled when it was just him, and I didn't want to raise a child as a single mother... I thought he was a better choice, in the long run... I mean, it wasn't like it was love with any of the other girls, or like it meant anything- there was no sign of contact from the same person over and over again; no letters, no phone calls, no texts, no-"

"What the bloody hell is a text?" Gene asked, staring at her with a baffled expression. Alex rolled her eyes, realizing her mistake and smiling indulgently.

"Nothing- just -a different sort of letter..." She didn't pause for him to ask anything else, continuing quickly, finding that now she'd spoken about it, she couldn't seem to stop. "I convinced myself that, if it didn't mean anything – if it was just a string of strippers and one-night stands – then I could deal with it..."

Gene's grip on her waist tightened, and she could see the vein in his jaw pulse dangerously, could sense the anger rolling off him in waves. It was one thing, Gene thought, to have an affair when the marriage was evidently falling to pieces; it was another entirely to do it when your wife was pregnant with your kid. Gene wasn't exactly the model for good relationships, but at least he had some sense of common decency; if his wife had been pregnant, the last thing he'd think about was an affair. Admittedly, he might have ended up drinking himself into a coma with worry, but at least he'd have shown some sense of human courtesy...

"Did he end it?" Gene ground out, still holding her tightly, though his whole body was tense with badly suppressed rage.

Alex nodded, biting her lip. "Six months after Molly was born; he said he wasn't ready to be married, and that he didn't love me... I've told you that before."

Gene gulped, nodding his head slightly before he tilted her face up to his. "I ain't gonna cheat, Bols," he promised. "I might've fucked about before, with the old Missus, but that was different – you're different." He pressed his mouth to hers, lightly sucking on her lower lip before he drew away. "I want kids, Alex; I ain't gunna bugger off with some bimbo an' her fake tits jus' 'cause I can't shove me dick up yer fanny! I-"

He stopped as Alex snorted with laughter, shaking her head as she gently stroked her hand down his cheek. "That was unnecessarily crude, Gene," she said, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, smile firmly set in place. "But thank you."

"Yeah, well," he said, averting his eyes to hide his slight embarrassment. "It wouldn't work with anyone else now, anyways... Ain't you..."

Alex smiled, turning his head back up to meet her eyes and leaning forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss. "I've told you before Gene, and I'll tell you again- no matter how much you deny it, you can be very sweet." She closed her eyes to receive his returned kiss, smiling when he sighed into her mouth as her hands tangled into his hair, unable to contain her grin as he slid a hand beneath the fabric of her blouse to press her closer to him, her breasts crushed against his chest as she nipped and licked at his mouth and tongue.

Pulling back briefly, Gene murmured, "I ain't sweet... just ain't that much of a bastard."

Still smiling, Alex dropped a kiss on his mouth, whispering her reply quietly. "Ok. You're not a bastard..."

Gene chuckled, cupping the back of her head with his hand and speaking softly, before returning to her lips with a warm, tender kiss, "I wouldn't go that far."

---

The last thing Gene really wanted was to interview Ciaran Merlot again; having spent a good half hour curled up with Alex in his office, he didn't want to dive straight back into the real world with a murder investigation. Much as he knew the Super's punishment would only be reinstated were he and Alex to avoid the matter for too long, he couldn't find it within himself to extract the details from the teenager, even though it would usually have thrilled him to lock another murderer up. Instead, he set Ray and Chris onto it, drawing Alex back into his office, and reluctantly placing the two diaries they had taken from Rosa McKellen's room all those months ago on the desk. He watched as the colour drained from Alex's face, saw her begin to shake her head, and a second later he had pressed his finger against her lips to stop the tirade of protest before it escaped her.

"Look, Bols, I ain't happy about it either, but unless yer fancy askin' muggin's in the cells how he topped his old Missus instead, it's all we've got. I can't let yer fanny around with the other cases until this one's solved; Super wants a result before Amanda kicks up a storm on the inside, an' much as the smug bastard gets on me tits, 'e 'as let yer come back down 'ere instead of scribblin' up reports." He looked at her sternly, seeing the desire to argue dissipate slowly from her eyes as she nodded her head, replacing it with a dull sense of inevitability. Gene couldn't resist cupping her face with his hands, pulling her mouth softly to his for a moment before resting his forehead on hers. "How 'bout yer make us a brew, an' then we'll get started, 'ey?"

Alex nodded, biting her lip before drawing reluctantly away, slipping from the office and disappearing into the canteen. Gene watched her go with regret, and then settled himself in his leather chair, pulling the diary Shaz had marked with a bright post-it note towards him. On the note, it read 'Angel'. With a sigh, he flicked it open, resting his chin lazily on his hand as his eyes scanned the page.

----

Five minutes later, Alex returned with a steaming cup of tea for Gene, and a coffee for herself, setting them down on the desk lightly and settling herself in Gene's lap, her arm draped over his shoulder. She felt him tense, and a moment later she glanced down at him, just in time to see him close his eyes tightly and grind his teeth. "Bols, maybe you should get yer own chair, 'ey?" He glanced up at her, and Alex blinked, surprised by the stern look in his eyes.

"Oh..." she murmured, "Ok... I'll just-"

"Don't get all iffy with me about it," Gene said, voice gently pleading. "I ain't meant ter be treatin' yer any different to the others; if Harrison comes in 'ere and catches yer in me lap, it'll be both our 'eads on the block." Seeing the disappointed look on her face, he sighed, sliding his arm around her waist and pressing a gentle kiss into her neck. "I'll make it up to yer later, ok?"

"After you've finished getting the Super drunk, you mean?" She asked, smiling despite herself.

Gene smirked, nodding his head slightly on her shoulder before pushing her gently from his lap. "Yeah... Sometime after that..." He patted the armrest and smirked, "Yer can sit 'ere, Bols," he said, "an' if 'e comes in, you better jump up sharpish."

---

Despite the slight lightening of the atmosphere, Gene could feel her tensing as they read through the diary with ridiculous scrutiny, knowing that she was analysing and reanalysing every word as she read. He found himself glancing across at her worriedly after every sentence, and the second either one of them found anything, his arm slid reassuringly around her waist.

"Here," Alex murmured, pointing to the passage she was reading, just after the first section Shaz had highlighted, biting her lip nervously as she pushed the book closer towards him. Gene could practically hear her gulp, and as he leaned over to read, his hand stroked gentle circles in the outside of her thigh, softly reassuring and lowering her breathing rate.

_It's different with him. He is gentle, and tender – they both are – but he treats me differently. Do I like it? I don't know. It's not the same. I suppose it's better, in some ways... In others, I can't be certain it's what I want. But he understands – he wants to help... Even Angels need some kind of reward, don't they?_

Gene stared at the paper with raised eyebrows, not quite sure whether to believe it or not. It was evident what she was referring to, and there was no denying that Ciaran's relationship with Rosa was sexual, but something about it jarred, something seemed wrong with the way it sounded as he read it.

"Bloody 'ell," he muttered, glancing up at Alex's drawn face. "You think 'e-?"

"I don't know," Alex said softly, blinking. "I can't see him being a rapist, but then-"

"If 'e was a rapist, why bother being gentle?" Gene asked sharply, pointing to the first line of the entry. "If yer fancy forcin' yerself on someone, yer don't stick around ter get caught; you'd be in an' out faster than a Nun in a casino!"

Alex sighed, shaking her head slowly. "No, Gene. You're forgetting that Ciaran was in love with her; he wouldn't have wanted to hurt her- just to be close to her... he might simply have gone too far without realising it, or have really thought she was saying yes to his advances. It's-"

"So 'e ain't a rapist, then?" Gene asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Alex bit her lip, glancing at the paper with a shrewd expression on her face. "No... But that's not to say that she was necessarily one hundred percent comfortable..."

Gene blinked, frowning slightly. "So, it _was _rape?"

"No, it's-"

"Bols, if she really didn't want 'is sausage, how the bloody hell is it _not_ rape?" He looked bewildered and bemused, and Alex sighed, pointing her finger at the page before them.

"Look," she said, "she says here that she 'can't be certain' it's what she wants, right?"

"Yes, Alex," Gene ground out, "I managed to read that."

"Which would imply that she herself wasn't sure either way, yes?"

"Yeah, but if you turned round and said yer weren't sure you wanted to shag me, I wouldn't keep rammin' it in like-"

"Gene," Alex reprimanded him, shaking her head in disgust. "Could you show a little sensitivity? Perhaps Rosa didn't actually tell Ciaran she was uncertain- maybe she just lay there and let it happen? It's not uncommon. A lot of girls aren't even aware they're not ready until it's started anyway."

"Wouldn't 'e 'ave noticed?" Gene asked in disbelief. "If she's layin' still as a corpse yer can 'ardly pretend she's enjoyin' it, can yer?"

"We can hardly make a judgement call on that when we don't know the circumstances. Rosa was clearly indecisive about whether or not she was ready, but evidently believed that for Ciaran to carry out her wishes she had to give him something in return... That's the reward that she's talking about. If he claimed to be in love with her, then surely a perfect reward for a good deed would be to sleep with her – physical and emotional closeness, Gene; it's key."

Gene shook his head, "Bols, if you're telling me she didn't want it, you're telling me it was rape! It can't be half-rape – it either is or it isn't! Did 'e rape her?"

"No," Alex said, opening her mouth to continue, "but-"

"So she let him 'ave sex with 'er?"

"Well, evidently yes! But if you want to look at her feelings for him, you've got the answer written right in front of your nose! If she wasn't sure she wanted to sleep with him, then she obviously-"

"There's another three-quarters of a book 'ere, Bolly; six months worth of psycho-bollucks that I'm sure you'll delight in- one entry doesn't make the case." He pulled the diary towards himself and flicked the page over, glowering darkly as he read, ignorant of the dawning recognition on Alex's face until she spoke, her voice soft and tentative.

"You can't bring yourself to think that she didn't love him, can you?" She asked gently, her hand moving to rest on his shoulder; he shrugged it off, loosening his tie and taking a large gulp of rapidly cooling tea to distract himself – it didn't work. The thoughts whirred through his head, and Alex saw the straight set of his mouth as he tried to read on, but he barely managed another sentence before he slammed in shut, covering his mouth with his hand and squeezing his nose lightly between his fingers before he spoke.

"'e's thrown 'is life away fer a girl 'cause 'e thought it'd make 'er happy – 'cause he thought she loved him, when she didn't... you gunna tell me that don't piss you off, Alex?" His voice was angry, and Alex tentatively stroked his neck, shaking her head.

"No," she whispered, "but we need to do all we can to work out the motives, and to make sure that we haven't made any mistakes so that-"

"Alex," Gene said resignedly. "He's confessed; he did it, and she didn't give a damn about him. Only thing we're gunna do is sit here like twats, reading her diary and pretending she's an innocent little kid who got killed, when it looks to me like she's a conniving little bitch who couldn't get what she wanted from 'er fella, so she fucked around with some other blokes head..." He kneaded his eyes slightly with the heels of his hands, and then sighed, scanning the page with his eyes before glancing at the clock. "Come on," he murmured softly, "if we finish this up we can get ter Luigi's by half five- I need a bloody drink."

----

At quarter past five, Gene tossed the diary aside angrily, the vein in his jaw jumping as Alex scribbled down another note on her pad, looking resolutely professional, even though he could see his own revulsion echoed in the stab of her pen on the paper pad, and the harsh scrawl of her handwriting before she dropped the notes on top of the diary.

"So?" Gene asked, no emotion creeping into his voice. "Anything?"

Alex shook her head, sliding gratefully into his lap when he pulled her down from the armrest, her head tucked into his neck as his breath grated across her cheek. "How could anyone be _that_ cruel, Gene?" She asked softly, twining her fingers around his and pressing her lips to the back of his hand. "One person shouldn't have that much influence on someone else... it's not right..."

Gene was silent for several seconds before he turned his head, gently pressing a kiss to her forehead before he murmured, "You could do that to me..." he murmured, pain creeping into each syllable. Alex twisted her head around to his, her thumb tracing across his lower lip.

"Is that what bothers you?" She asked, slightly surprised.

Gene shook his head. "No... Doesn't bother me that I'd do anythin' for yer... it bothers me that I'd do it even if I didn't think yer loved me." He gulped slightly, pulling her against him and closing his eyes as his nostrils filled with the scent of her.

"But I do," Alex assured him softly, stroking his cheek. "And I wouldn't ever-"

"Wouldn't care if you did," he said, and then frowned. "Well, I'd care," he corrected himself, "but- if I thought yer loved me I'd do it... Even though it'd kill me..."

Alex said nothing, simply cupping his face and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Come on," she murmured. "Pub- we've got a Super to inebriate!"

Gene managed a half smile and lifted her from his lap, keeping his hand in hers as she led him over to the coat stand, handing him his overcoat and shrugging into her leather jacket. Gene watched her closely, drawing her back into his arms as she settled it around herself, his lips to her forehead. "Alex?" He asked, voice quiet in her ear.

"Yes, Gene?"

"Promise me something?"

She smiled. "What?"

He hesitated, and then murmured softly, "promise it'll never come to that with us." His grip on her waist tightened, but she tilted her head up to look at him, her face sincere and genuine as she nodded.

"Ok – I promise. If _you _promise that you won't get bored when I get fa-"

"You ain't gunna get fat, Bols," he said, dotingly stroking her hair. "You're gunna get pregnant... An' I promise, I won't shag anyone else but you."

"Really?" She asked playfully.

"Yeah, really."

She grinned, holding up her little finger. "Pinky swear?"

Gene laughed, hooking his finger around hers and pressing their mouths gently together, whispering softly against her lips, "pinky swear."

---

**Hope you liked it!**

**Let me know what you thought :-)**

**Big thank you to Feline, as always!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	32. Failing Words

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**---**

Luigi's felt strangely unfamiliar as they entered, despite the tangible smell of Italian food and wine mingling warmly in the air as plainly as it ever had. After almost two weeks away from it, the atmosphere felt somehow foreign. The annoying thing, Gene realized as he drew Alex into him, his arm possessively draped over her shoulder, was that they wouldn't be able to leave until Harrison had drunk all of the barrels dry, and Gene didn't doubt that their superior officer would take every available opportunity to drain their wallets.

Much as they did enjoy the company of their colleagues from time to time, it was almost customary now to leave at seven and spend the rest of the evening shagging one another senseless without any hesitation. The fact Gene would probably have to wait until pub closing rankled slightly, but he said nothing, ordering them both their drinks whilst keeping one arm around Alex, his hand resting firmly on her arse, ignoring Ray as he rolled his eyes in disgust, and blocking out Shaz's bizarre grin, focusing instead on the sensation that assaulted him as Alex stroked gently up his spine with soft fingers, her hand hidden underneath the heavy fabric of his overcoat. It soothed him slightly, and his tense muscles relaxed as he walked her over to the other side of the room, as far from the others as possible, pulling two chairs almost indecently close together and sitting with his face towards the door, moving his arm once more to rest around her shoulders, ignoring the amused sigh that left her throat at his overt possessiveness.

"Gene, you can let go of me you know? Harrison isn't going to leap across the room and try to mount me!" Instead of showing any sign of relent, Gene slipped his hand beneath her arm, teasingly caressing the side of her breast, his eyes locking with hers and burning with fire.

"Too bloody right he ain't!" he growled, leaning forwards to capture her lips in a searing kiss. "He so much as touches yer an' I'm rippin' his bollucks off with a pair of tweezers!"

"I'll be sure to inform him of that, Hunt."

Harrison's smirking voice caused Gene to freeze slightly, gulping, his eyes still fixed on Alex's face, catching the slightly shocked, but no less amused expression, before turning to meet his superior's gaze. He was surprised to note that a smirk was tugging at Harrison's lips, and before he could say anything, the Superintendent had taken a seat and shrugged out of his jacket. "Mine's a pint, with a whiskey chaser. Throw in a bag of peanuts and I'll keep my hands off her." He winked at Alex, grinned once again at Gene, and then loosened his tie. Alex felt Gene's body go rigid with tension, and she ran a reassuring hand down his leg before smiling softly at him. Grinding his teeth, Gene nodded, pressing a quick but insistent kiss to Alex's mouth before standing and heading to the bar, glancing quickly and repeatedly over his shoulder as Luigi took his order.

Alex shifted uncomfortably for a moment at being left alone, but the relaxed smile on Harrison's face had a surprisingly calming effect, and she found herself smiling back as he started to speak, his voice amused.

"It's alright Drake," he said, laughing lightly. "You're really not my type, even without Hunt watching me like a hawk." He shifted slightly in his chair, absently and casually tracing his fingers across the polished wooden surface of the table, humming softly under his breath. Alex glanced up as she felt Gene's eyes burning into her skull, and smiled coyly. He nodded, as though in understanding, but when he returned with the drinks a moment later, he didn't waste a second before he had his arm around her waist again, his jaw tight.

Rolling his eyes, Harrison took a deep drink from his beer glass before setting it down, still grinning to himself at Gene's obvious discomfort. Gene himself was struggling to resist an overwhelming urge to punch the other man in the face, and ended up digging his fingers into his own thigh, his teeth threatening to shatter as the pressure on his jaw increased exponentially. For a moment, he convinced himself that he would rather Alex spent the next month working with the bastard than have to sit here every night drinking with him, but when he caught the dancing look in Harrison's eyes, he thought better of it, and his jaw creaked as he attempted to remain calm.

"Rumour has it that you two moved house..." Harrison's voice was full of intrigue and amusement, and Gene kept his mouth tightly closed as Alex answered the question for him, her voice noticeably careful, but still open; Gene squeezed her slightly tighter, though he couldn't be completely sure why.

"Yes – last Friday," she smiled. "We're just outside of town now." Alex slid her hand into Gene's as she spoke, entwining their fingers and squeezing back at him reassuringly.

"Sounds... homey..." Harrison deliberated over the last word for several seconds, glancing at Gene almost disbelievingly as he did so. Gene said nothing, simply holding Harrison's gaze with unblinking confidence. He thought he saw a slight flicker of surprise in the depths of the other mans brown eyes, but it was gone a moment later, replaced by a grin, a nod of congratulations and a mock toast with his drink. "Enjoy it," he murmured softly, breaking eye contact as he drank again. Gene simply nodded, glancing at Alex, who simply smiled reassuringly up at him before speaking again.

"Oh, we are!" she insisted, apparently not noticing the undertones of her admission until it was a moment too late, only realizing what she had said when a smirk of wry amusement crept onto Harrison's face, a chuckle leaving his throat; even Gene felt his lips twitch, looking at her with warmth in his chest as she flushed deep red and covered her mouth in embarrassment. His arm tightened around her, and he met her blushing gaze, disentangling his fingers from hers as he did so to stroke up her outer thigh, knowing full well that his normally blue eyes had darkened considerably.

Alex bit her lip, turning away from him and attempting to steer the conversation in another direction. A smug grin settled itself on Gene's lips, and he felt himself relax, chuckling to himself as she stumbled over her words, fell silent and then leapt up to order the next round. Harrison snorted in amusement, looking at Gene with an eyebrow quirked, and a grin that reminded him implicitly of Ray set firmly in place; Gene glanced down, an uneasy feeling in his stomach at the recognised sense of friendly male solidarity. The Super chuckled, but said nothing, thanking Alex when she set another drink down before him. Gene didn't lift his eyes again until her ankle had hooked around his own and he had downed half of his drink.

"Interesting interview with Merlot yesterday, Hunt," Harrison said, ripping open the bag of peanuts and cracking their shells open. "I take it you believed him?"

Gene gulped, setting his glass carefully down on the table once again, and then shrugging. "Which bit?"

"The bit where he confessed to being madly in love with the girl he then killed." Cracking another shell, Harrison quirked his eyebrow, tossing the nut into his mouth as he did so. "Was he telling the truth?"

Gene shrugged, and then nodded. "Yeah. I believe 'im."

He didn't miss the eye roll that Harrison sent his way, but nor did he contest it; a few months ago he'd have passed the excuse off as bullshit, too. "So you believe that he genuinely loved her, which meant he should cut her to pieces and scare some mentally unstable bloke half to death in the process?"

"Joe Ellison?" Alex asked, frowning. "Did he confess that-?"

"He said he spoke to him," Gene cut in, glowering at Harrison. "I didn't ask him anything else."

"But he admitted that he scared Joe into-?"

"Yeah, Bols, he did, but that don't make him guilty!" Gene's jaw was tight, eyes narrowed, and Harrison rolled his eyes yet again.

"I fail to see how he can be anything but guilty given the circumstances; if he loved her, would it not make more humane sense to dose her up so high she wouldn't wake again? My marriage is far from perfect, Hunt, but romance isn't so far gone from my mind that I'd consider hacked skin and a dumping in the river to be a deep and meaningful declaration of love!"

Gene cracked his knuckles, glancing at Alex for support, only to find that she was remaining silent, apparently deep in thought and oblivious. He sighed, and then turned back to Harrison. "I ain't sayin' 'e deserves a medal an' a certificate for 'Best Boyfriend' or anything, but if that's the way she bloody wanted to go then-"

"What teenage female in their right mind would want to be cut to shreds and-?"

"She wasn't in 'er right mind!" Gene snapped, slamming his fist on the table aggressively. He fell silent when the rest of the team glanced around at them, but a moment later he was talking once more, his voice softer now, but no less angered. "She'd got bloody lumps comin' out of 'er face left, right an' centre, an' you're expectin' 'er to be in her right-"

"Gene's right," Alex said, finally joining in. "She was in no way in a healthy mental state; she'd suffered all her life from anorexia, she'd developed further cause for low self-esteem with the diagnosis of her Fibrodysplasia-"

"English, Bols," Gene growled, though gratitude welled in his stomach at her support.

Alex sighed, "Fine. When she was diagnosed with F.O.P, there was no way she could possibly have heightened her self-esteem. If what Ciaran's saying is true – and if we're looking at it logically, then it must be – she was only with her boyfriend, Benji because she was of a similar physical attractiveness to him, or at least, initially, that's how she felt, and so the one source of support, possibly the one person who _should _be able to boost her self-belief, wasn't ever going to make her feel deserving of love, because-"

"Basically," Gene interrupted sharply, "She was shaggin' an ugly bastard, who nobody else wanted either, so she felt shit 'cause the best she could get was the crap-bag everyone else looked down on!" He expected Alex to correct him, but instead, she looked at him with surprise in her gaze, blinking slightly before nodding and glancing briefly at Harrison.

"Well... pretty much what he said, really..." she trailed off, still eyeing Gene with blatant bewilderment. Gene settled back in his chair, placing his arm back around her shoulders and nodding smugly.

"Psychiatry!" He grinned, squeezing Alex slightly.

"It's Psychology," she muttered in quiet reply, glancing reprovingly at him in minor annoyance. Gene chewed embarrassedly on the inside of his cheek, and then nodded, tilting his head towards Alex and meeting Harrison's eyes as he did so.

"What she said," he echoed her, smirking when she stifled a giggle. "Point is, she didn't know what she wanted, so who's to say she didn' tell the poor sod she'd like to get hacked to pieces and then 'ave a wash in the Thames?"

"My point," Harrison replied coolly, "is that if he loved her, there would be no part of him that considered anything about this case to be 'romantic'." Gene ground his teeth when Harrison executed the same finger waggle Alex so often used, tightening his hold around her shoulders without conscious thought. "Now, tell me if you think otherwise, Hunt, but he himself would have to be of considerably unsound mind to do that to someone he 'loved', don't you think?" He did it again at the word 'loved', and Gene quickly threw the rest of his drink down his throat in an effort to hide his annoyance.

"Nobody's argued that Ciaran was of sane mind," Alex intervened, stroking Gene's leg lightly beneath the table to calm him down when she felt him tense up. "How could he be? He thought that the girl he loved felt the same way, but had to deal with the knowledge that she wouldn't leave Benji so that the two of them could be together, despite the fact that, as far as Ciaran knew, she despised their relationship and was unhappy in Benji's company. To deny her what she wanted would be to push her back towards the other boy, and if he'd been waiting a year to get another chance to see her, there was no way he could possibly have put himself through that! He was evidently distressed, and deluded himself into thinking that he wasn't actually killing her, just-"

"Just helping her," Harrison finished, nodding. "Yes, I heard that. But I still find it difficult to believe that anyone could believe it was a good thing to do; I'd suggest pulling in Ellison again- make sure he tells you his side. Then I want that, as well as Carling and Skelton's tape from Merlot's interview today, on my desk by Monday morning... I'm not as convinced as you two that they'll both be on the same page." He took another gulp from his drink, glancing over at the rest of the team with apathetic disinterest.

"Of course," Alex murmured, speaking up before Gene could say anything in protest or disagreement. "Would it be worth us pulling in any of Jeremy McKellen's other friends? Barry, or Andy, or-?"

"Not yet," Harrison replied, flicking a peanut shell from the table in mindless distraction. "We don't want any of them to run off scared; talk to Ellison, see what he turns up. Then maybe you can pull in his friends, provided he doesn't give us what we need."

Gene remained resolutely silent, his jaw tight, nodding almost mechanically before averting his gaze and concentrating on the discarded nutshell that now lay beneath a nearby table. Alex hid a smirk behind her hand at the sight of him, evidently displeased at having his rank imposed upon in public. As though in apologetic understanding, she slid her hand further up his leg, almost laughing when he shifted his chair more firmly beneath the table, tugging her hand even higher without so much as a flinch. Harrison remained oblivious as he rummaged through the bag of peanuts and continued speaking. "None of them talk much – I've read the reports on their records, and they're about as talkative as a mute under anaesthetic once you get them in the interview room... Ellison's your best bet; make sure he knows you've got Ciaran – it might sway him a little."

Gene nodded absently, the words entering into his brain but hardly registering as Alex's hand teased against his crotch. He was distantly aware of her replying to Harrison with what might have been interest, but in honesty, all he could truly come to terms with was the fact that Alex Drake was threatening to toss him off under the table, in a public restaurant, with a superior officer sat right opposite them...

And then Harrison was leaving, and for a fleeting moment Gene considered that maybe there was a God after all; Harrison had stood up, downed his drink, donned his jacket, and was saying his farewells before Gene had managed to blink.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the Super said, drawing out his packet of cigarettes and lighting one up as he spoke. "I'd best be going – thanks for the drink." With a smirk at Gene, Harrison left, and though Gene vaguely recognized that it wasn't even half seven yet, the thought was wiped clean from his mind the moment Alex attempted to draw her hand away. Eyes black and glittering, Gene turned to her, his gaze smouldering as he held her hand firmly in place and leant forwards to growl in her ear.

"You owe me a blowjob fer getting you out of that bastard's office," he managed, stroking her thigh with long fingers. "And after that, you can spend the evenin' apologising fer gettin' me riled up in a public place." Alex shivered. He twined his hand around hers, threw the rest of his drink down his throat, and tugged her out of the restaurant without hesitation, wrapping his long overcoat around himself to hide the tell-tale bulge in his trousers.

---

They stumbled through the door, chuckling and whispering to one another, pushing Fitz into the living room with a bowlful of food. Then Gene was pushing her up the stairs, his hands all over Alex's body as he went, his lips on her neck, breath hot on her skin as he guided her into the bedroom, kicking off his shoes in the corner before he turned her around to face him.

She smiled breathlessly up at him, drawing off her shoes and socks and tossing them over his shoulder, moving her hands to his belt and grinning as the leather slid free from the buckle; she pushed it aside and reached for his fly.

Gene groaned, tugging her closer, his mouth falling on hers, even as she pushed down his trousers and boxers, her hand stroking him gently. "Christ, Bols," he murmured, nipping at her lip with his teeth. "Should've let you carry on in the pub..." He hissed slightly as thumb brushed against his tip, tugging her closer. "Jesus... don't stop..." his tongue tangled briefly with hers, but she pulled away, smirking as her hand continued to work him slowly, her lips trailing down his neck as she shook her head.

"No..." she whispered softly, "I owe you something, remember?" Her tongue peeked out in anticipation as she met his eyes, the wet tip swiping across her lips and causing Gene to emit a tortured groan as she moved to kneel down in front of him.

"Wait," he said softly, eyes burning with lust as he looked her over. "Take yer top off," he growled, fingers digging into her waist. He watched as she gulped, as her trembling hands released his length and moved to her blouse, pushing each button free with delicate slowness. Her blouse came undone next, slowly revealing her full breasts and deep red bra to Gene's hungry gaze. He watched her for several moments, wetting his dry mouth and clenching his fingers on her hips to restrain himself, but it was too much; a few seconds later, he'd ripped the blouse open, pushed it from her shoulders and moved his hands to her trousers.

"And these," he told her, popping the button and jerking the zip open, watching as she pushed them from her body. When she stepped out of them, clad in her matching underwear and nothing else, he tugged her into his chest, mouth hard against hers. She clung to the lapels of his shirt, moaning into his mouth and pressing her body as close to him as was physically possible.

"How grateful are you really, Alex?" He asked her, his voice husky and ragged as his hand slid down her back and over her arse. Her lips covered his neck, her tone soft and warm as her own wandering hands moved once again to his trousers.

"Very, very grateful," she murmured, working him slowly as she slipped down onto her knees, smiling up at him seductively. His hands were in her hair, tugging her closer and stoking her scalp lightly with his fingers.

"Show me, Alex," he growled, his eyes dark. "Show me how grateful you are."

She swiped her tongue across his tip, met his eyes, and closed her mouth around him, her eyes shut with rapture as Gene lost himself in the heat of her.

---

It was hours later, curled up in bed with a bowl of pasta held between them, that Alex turned to him, cupping his cheek with a soft hand. He looked at her in confusion, eyebrows raised as he chewed slowly. Her gaze was soft, eyes glistening in the dim light, and he swallowed hard as she watched him, a half smile on her lips.

"I love you," she whispered, laughing as his eyebrows crinkled up into a frown. She rolled her eyes, kissing his mouth lightly and taking another forkful of pasta, feeling his arm pull her closer against him. "Don't look so nervous," she chided, patting his nose with her finger and chewing absently as he held her.

Eventually, he gulped, nodding his head. "Yeah," he murmured, "I know..." he glanced down, and then spoke again. "I won't say it every day Alex, you know that... I can't just- it's not that I don't want to... I just- it isn't easy fer me..."

Alex smiled, shaking her head. "It's not easy for me, either, Gene," she whispered, still smiling warmly up at him. "And I don't expect you to say it all the time... I know that's not you; I don't mind..."

Gene frowned, toying absently with his fork as he spoke again, eyes still cast downwards. "Why'd you say it, then?" He asked her, taking the cutlery from her hand and placing that, as well as the bowl, onto the bedside table, before drawing her gently into his chest, fingers tightening slightly on her skin. "If yer know I ain't gunna-"

"Gene, I don't need _you_ to say it; I've told you that before. It's just words, at the end of the day... but I like saying it; it makes me feel better knowing that you know how I feel about you... that you'll never be able to doubt it if- if anything were to happen to me..." She bit her lip, and then sighed. "I'm being silly," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"You know I do, right?" Gene asked, his voice worried and pained, his eyes locking instantly with hers and reflecting his fear in their cool, blue depths. "It ain't that I don't bloody mean it! Jesus, Bolly, I ain't a complete and utter-"

"Gene," she whispered, smiling. "Of course I know... I know every day, because of the person you are with me; don't think I'm not aware how much you've changed for me- I am. I'm grateful everyday for it. And I-"

"Didn't change _for_ you," he murmured, interrupting her and cupping her cheek in his hand, eyes piercing into hers and burning with honesty. "I changed because of yer... an' I don't regret it, Alex; I don't want yer thanks for it- I just want you... ok?"

Alex smiled, stroking a finger across his lip. "Ok..." she whispered, leaning forwards and catching his mouth with hers. He returned the kiss with warmth, tongue peeking out to caress her bottom lip before he drew away from her, his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against hers.

"I like hearin' yer say it, Alex," he told her softly. "And I don't want you to stop, I just-"

Alex laughed softly, her finger caressing his cheek and face as she shook her head at him. "I won't."

He nodded, and then frowned. "An' yer don't mind that I won't say it all the-?"

"No, I don't mind." She whispered. "You'll say it when it matters most; I know that."

Another nod, and Gene pulled her closer, his lips on her forehead. "You're everything to me, Alex," he told her after a while nestled quietly together, his voice so painstakingly honest that a chill spread down her spine. She wrapped her arms tighter around him, feeling his warmth seep through into her own skin; she smiled.

"I know..." She said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "And I love you, too."

Gene chuckled, kissing the corner of her mouth before whispering softly to her. "Bloody know-it-all," he teased, before taking her mouth with his own. He felt her smile into his kiss, felt her heart hammering against his own and her fingers tangle in his hair, and then he lost himself all over again.

---

The last time Gene had seen Joe Ellison, the man had been unconscious on the floor of a public toilet, looking, for all intents and purposes, to be just another drunken brawler in a pub. Now, conscious, shivering, and by all rights as skinny as a rake, he looked ill and drawn, and Gene didn't need a degree in Psychology to know that something had badly affected him. The pale colour of his flesh gave him a distinct air of sickness, and the skin around his eyes was purple and black with tiredness. He was jumpy and fearful, flinching at every unexpected noise or unpredicted movement, even one as simple as the clunk of Gene's mug on the table, or the creak of the door when Alex entered the interview room. His hair was patchy across his scalp, clumps of it coming loose as Joe ran his fingers repeatedly through it in agitation, his expression terrified.

Gene watched him carefully, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he did so; he'd seen vulnerability in this man before, and he'd enforced violence against him because he thought he'd murdered a teenage girl, but the blood that had stained Joe's clothes and face that day so very long ago, was nothing to the wreck that Gene now saw standing before him.

Alex was quiet at his side, carefully aligning her pens on the desk, repositioning the tape recorder so that it was just right, and then brushing it clean of invisible dust, as though to postpone the inevitable. Gene leant over her, pushing the record button and lightly touching against her fingers as he did so; she stilled, looking at him gratefully, and all he could do was nod his head, nudging her hand from the recorder as he drew back. She took a deep breath, and then settled back into her chair, her fingers twining around Gene's for the briefest of moments beneath the surface of the table, squeezing lightly, before she released him, drawing her hand back and placing her arms on the table. Gene met her eyes for a careful second, and then turned back to Joe, who was looking from one to the other of them in frenzied worry.

"You didn't tell us the whole story with Rosa, did you Ellison?" Gene was surprised by the calm in his own voice, and he had to fight to contain the shock that threatened to show on his face. "'cause I know you drank with the guy who says he killed her, but you never told us..."

Joe fidgeted, his hands wringing in his lap in obvious agitation as he glanced at Alex, who remained quiet and sedate, her eyes on his, giving away nothing. "Didn't... I couldn't..." He gulped, and then shook his head. "Not allowed..."

"See, I've got the bloke who told you not to tell locked up in a cell downstairs... so why don't yer tell me what 'appened to Rosa, 'ey?" Gene reached into his pocket as he spoke, drawing out a cigarette and lighting it up, absently taking a drag as he continued to look at Joe.

The other man watched in horror, shoving his chair away from the table so that he was pressed against the far wall, his eyes fearful as they fixated upon the burning tip. Gene frowned, blinking in surprise when Alex snatched the cigarette from his fingers and stubbed it out on the desk. "That's my bloody fag!" He said, turning to her with an outraged expression. "That's my bloody Marlboro, and you just-!"

"Gene," Alex hissed warningly, nodding towards Joe, who sat quaking in his chair, white knuckles grasping at the wooden seat. "I'll buy you some more later... can we just carry on?"

Gene ground his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest in reluctant agreement. "Fine," he grunted, glowering darkly as he turned back to Joe, "what do yer know about-?"

"Why don't you like fire, Joe?" Alex interrupted, her voice loud and clear, but still calm and distinct. Ellison glanced at her nervously, and then flicked his eyes back to Gene, before biting down on his lip and gulping hard. His jaw tightened, the skin of his face draining of what little colour was left as he looked away, shaking his head. Gene simply ground his teeth, taking a deep breath to stop himself complaining about her interruption.

"Not sayin'." Ellison muttered.

Gene seethed angrily, his voice raised. "You better say something you great big-"

"Gene!" Alex hissed. "Please?" Her eyes flickered towards the door, and Gene could feel himself go rigid with annoyance as he gritted his teeth. "Could you get us a drink?" She asked.

"I ain't a bloody tea-maid, Bolly," Gene growled, his eyes narrowed.

She rolled her eyes, looked pointedly at Joe Ellison, then the door, and then turned her pleading gaze back to Gene himself; he clenched his jaw, and then stood up, shoving his chair over and glowering at Joe as he leant down to mutter in Alex's ear. "I'm outside," he told her gruffly. "Make him talk."

---

It was the second time in this investigation that they'd interviewed Ellison, and it was the second time Gene had been left standing outside in the corridor because he was either too aggressive or too pissed off to settle into the steady, courteous flow of interrogation that Alex was always so fond of; he didn't like it.

It wasn't like with other suspects, who were cocky and arrogant and completely deserving of a kick in the nuts; Ellison was twitchy, nervous, and, if Alex's assumptions were correct – and though Gene resented it, he had no doubt that she was – he was mentally ill. So really, he thought, he should be able to restrain his anger long enough to let Alex work whatever Psychiatrical wonderments she wanted on the damn sod. But he couldn't. He didn't trust the little scrot as far as he could throw him, and the fact that the other man had lied about his involvement more than twice in the course of the case angered him no end.

Gene glanced through the window, seeing Alex lean reassuringly forward, extending an encouraging hand towards the quivering man pressed against the wall... He had no doubt she'd get what they needed, but it didn't make him any happier leaving her in their alone. With gritted teeth, he crossed his arms and leant against the wall, not once taking his eyes off them.

---

Alex smiled reassuringly across at Joe as the door closed in Gene's wake, her hand outstretched on the table and silently imploring that he rejoin her at the table. Voice soft, she began to speak to him, choosing her words carefully and deliberately, keeping her tone measured and calm.

"It's ok, Joe; the fire's not here anymore." She smiled, and then went on. "Now, I need to ask you a few questions about Rosa, is that ok?"

Joe shook his head, gulping hard and shaking as he remained pressed into the wall, still staring at the space on the table where Alex had stubbed out Gene's cigarette.

"Joe, I need you to help me; we think we've found the person responsible for her death – I just need you to confirm a few things for me, then you can leave- ok?"

He continued to shake his head, trembling and biting at his nails. "Can't..." he muttered. "Kill me... 'e'll kill me..."

"If the man in custody is the man who threatened you, Joe, I can assure you he will not hurt you." She tried to meet his eyes, but they remained averted, and she sighed. "Joe, you were Rosa's godfather, weren't you?"

He nodded, but his eyes didn't move, although Alex thought she saw a flicker of grief in the man's eyes.

"And you want to see the man who killed her brought to justice, don't you?" Her voice was tight, clipped, and she wasn't sure at that moment whether she herself wanted to see Ciaran tried and sentenced; the part of her that understood the repercussions that falling in love could have made her heart ache bitterly, despite the knowledge that he had acted illegally, and, yes, savagely...

Ellison was nodding again, slowly, biting so hard on his lower lip that Alex could see the trickle of blood on his chin, unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

"Can you give me his name?" She asked softly, her eyes imploring; Joe shook his head, and she sighed. "Joe, I have-" she hesitated, blinking slightly as tears welled up before she went on. "I _had_ a daughter," she continued, emphasising the word and feeling it catch in her throat, "and I trusted her godfather without question; now, Amanda and Jeremy trusted you with their daughter – trusted you to teach her things, to look after her... Don't let them down, Joe; do this one thing for Rosa now, ok?"

He blinked, nodding, tears spilling down his cheek. Heart pounding in her ears, Alex spoke again, "Will you give me a name, Joe? For Rosa's sake?"

The man before her seemed to grapple with himself inwardly, gulping and trembling, wringing his hands in front of him. "I can't- can't say 'is name... don't want to... he'll find out..."

Alex looked down, thinking slowly, and then looked back up into his fearful face. "Would you be able to identify a photograph; you don't have to say his name – just nod or shake your head... will that help?"

Joe met her eyes, visibly relaxing as he nodded slowly, though his tooth still worried nervously at his lip. Alex sent him a reassuring smile, and then hit the stop button on the recorder. "I'll be back in five minutes, ok? Can I get you anything to drink? A cup of tea, maybe? Or some water?"

Joe shook his head, looking down at his hands. "No. No... I'm fine, off'ser... Ma'am... Miss..." He continued to look down, frowning in confusion, and Alex sighed, leaving the room quickly.

---

Gene blinked when she got up, trying to discern whether she'd actually been able to learn anything in the short few minutes she'd been in there. He caught her by the arm as she stepped out, meeting her eyes questioningly. "Get anything?"

Alex shrugged, glancing at Joe briefly. "Not yet... I'm going to show him a picture of Ciaran; he can't give me a name, but maybe a visual source will help... He's terrified of him though, Gene- he thinks he'll get killed if he says anything."

With a roll of the eyes, Gene glanced back at the man inside the interview room, who still sat trembling in his chair, glancing around nervously. "Bloody twonk," he muttered, shaking his head. "If Merlot was gunna bop 'im off, he'd 'ave done it by now; wouldn't wait about for 'im to say something to us."

Alex laughed bitterly, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Gene, but generally if you threaten somebody's life they'll tend to be quite compliant with your demands from thereon in."

He looked at her blankly, then sighed and nodded towards Joe. "How much d'you reckon he knows?"

Alex pursed her lips thoughtfully, apparently assessing Ellison as she did so. When she finally spoke, her voice was slow and deliberating. "I'm not sure... The fire thing- I think there's something there, but I can't be sure what... When we first brought him in, he said he didn't like it, that Rosa had smoked once- he called her stupid because of it, but I can't think why that would be significant when she died of-"

"Ciaran smokes," Gene interjected, frowning.

"Yes, Gene," she said, snapping slightly. "But so do alot of other people!"

"Just a thought," he muttered, drawing back and sulkily crossing his arms over his chest. Alex sighed, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes before reaching out to stroke his cheek.

"Sorry," she whispered apologetically. "I didn't mean to bite your head off..."

"Mmm..." Gene nodded, his eyebrows knitted together, and for a few moments, Alex thought he was genuinely annoyed, but then he spoke again. "Weren't them things in the warehouse – the necklace, the pictures, the purse... hadn't they been burnt a bit?" He glanced down at her thoughtfully, taken by surprise when her eyes lit up with recognition.

"Of course! And Joe must've seen Ciaran, and threatened to tell, and then-"

"Bolly," Gene interrupted, glancing worriedly through the window at Joe. "Go get the photo before Ellison shits a brick, 'ey? Unless we get 'im sayin' he knows Merlot, all yer theories are about as useful as a bird with bollucks!"

Alex nodded, turning away to move down the corridor, but finding Gene's hand wrapped around hers. She looked at him in confusion. "Gene, I can't very well go and get it if you're going to hold onto me like that..."

He smirked, but pulled her back, his hands on her waist. "I'm coming in this time," he said, glancing sideways at Ellison before meeting her eyes. She frowned.

"Gene, are you sure that's a good idea? He's obviously scared of-"

"I'm coming in, Alex," he told her, eyes stern. "If he's the key to solvin' this case, I ain't sittin' on the sidelines countin' the cracks in the ceiling, alright? It's been almost six months since this thing started; if this is it then- well, then I ain't gunna miss it." He met her eyes, wondering if she realized what he really meant, daring her to argue... she didn't. Instead, she simply nodded at him, stroking his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his lips before drawing away and hurrying down the corridor. Gene watched her, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, before pushing back into the interview room.

--

**Hope you liked it!**

**Big thanks to Feline yet again for her wonderful beta-ing!**

**Let me know what you thought :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	33. Insecurity

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Wasn't going to be this long, but I ended up addressing it a little more in-depth than I had first thought! Hope it's alright! There's some plot in it, but there will be a lot more next time.**

**---**

He closed the door behind him, feeling his heart pound vigorously in his chest. _If this is it, I ain't gunna miss it..._ He bit his lip, gulping, wondering if Alex understood the fear and undercurrents those words had held as they left his mouth... He told himself he was being stupid, that he had no reason to fear losing her when they were so close, so strong...

But security had never been Gene's strong point; as a child, he'd grown up fearing his father and the house that he lived in, and the only sources of support that he'd had –his mother and Stuart- had been, although stable, kept so carefully hidden from his father's prying eyes, that sometimes he had found it difficult to believe in them at all. He'd had a marriage littered with affairs and lies, a career which was strewn with corruption in the only place that he had ever seen to be true, and now- now, somehow, despite everything that had happened, despite all that they had been through, those insecurities didn't seem to fade when he looked at Alex.

It wasn't that he didn't believe she loved him; of all the things that had once seemed inconceivable, he believed that implicitly, and no longer simply because he wanted to. Knowing that she returned his feelings, and that she believed in him meant the world and more... but it wasn't love he was worried about, he realized.

If love was his only qualm, the whole thing would be a whole lot simpler.

But it wasn't about love; love hadn't brought them together in the first place, after all. Love had grown after months of something else, something more primal and instinctive; the only chance he'd had of making her fall in love with him had come after weeks and months of her relying on him, of her needing him to protect and look after her... Would she still feel the same way once the fear and grief of the McKellen case had lifted? He couldn't forget that it was only after finding Rosa's body that Alex called him around to her flat, letting him hold her in the same way that he'd wanted to for months on end. Nor could he ignore the fact their very first kiss had taken place immediately after going to the scene of Jeremy's body, finding him covered in blood, bleeding hopelessly on the floor of his own home...

Gene gulped, glancing across at Ellison, who shivered and twitched in his chair, his eyes averted as he scratched at his arms and itched at the back of his neck. Did this man really have the power to end the case for good? Was a picture really all it took to confirm that Ciaran was a scumbag, just like all the others? And once it was over, once he was sent down for murder and left to rot in a prison cell for the next twenty or thirty years, what would happen to Gene? Would the walls suddenly fall down around him as Alex came to terms with the fact she didn't need him around anymore, that she no longer required his support? Would reality flood back into his life like a draft of cold air through an open door?

He shook his head, clenching his fists slightly in his pockets; there was no reason to be scared, when only last night she had told him that she loved him- it wasn't rational to be picking it to pieces like this. He wasn't the Psychiatrist in their relationship; she was the one who analysed and over-analysed things- Gene simply let the pieces fall as they may... but what if this time, the pieces didn't fall the way he wanted to? What if-?

The door opened, and Alex entered quickly, looking out of breath and worried, the expression on her face quickly melting into surprise as she glanced from one to the other of them. Gene sighed.

"Give me some credit, Bols," he muttered, sinking into his chair as she continued to stare. "I wasn't gunna punch him_ before_ an identification, was I?" Alex frowned, but nodded, joining him and settling a brown file on the table between them.

She hit the record button, dimly aware of Gene's eyes on her as she did so, but when she turned back to him, his eyes were fixed resolutely on Joe's nervous face. She frowned slightly, but a moment later, she redirected her attention to the man before them, who was shaking and trembling with fear and nerves as he looked at the file Alex had brought with her. She smiled at him reassuringly, speaking in a soft voice.

"I'm going to show you a few pictures now, Joe; is that alright?"

Joe bit his lip, but nodded slowly, his jaw quivering. Alex risked a small smile at him, before extracting a photo from within the file and sliding it across the table towards him, watching his face carefully; he flinched, but didn't turn away.

"I'm going to ask a few questions," she said gently, "just answer with a nod or shake of the head, ok?"

He nodded again, shaking where he sat, his knuckles going white as he grasped at the tables edge. Gene said nothing, keeping his arms crossed firmly over his chest and glowering darkly across the table.

"Do you know the young man in this picture?" Alex asked, pointing her finger carefully towards Ciaran's face, but not once taking her eyes from Joe's quivering form. Sweat broke out on his brow, trickling down his weather beaten forehead and over the plains of his sun-blistered cheeks, breaking out on his upper lip as he shook uncontrollably. His head made a slight jerking nod, the movement almost compulsive, but yet still reluctant, and a moment later he had looked away, still trembling. "For the record," Alex murmured, "Mister Ellison has nodded."

Still pointing to the picture, her eyes fixed on Joe's rapidly whitening face, she spoke again. "Did this man drink in The Black Bull with yourself and Jeremy McKellen?"

Another nod, tentative, but less aggravated than before, and Alex smiled slightly at him. "Did you know anything of the relationship between this man and Rosa McKellen in the months before her death?"

He shook his head, the action vigorous and angry. Alex nodded in reply, hushing Joe until he calmed back down, and then glancing sideways at Gene, who was tapping his fingers in agitation on the desk, obviously craving a cigarette; she swelled slightly with gratitude at the realization that he was holding back, before returning her attention to Joe. "Is this the man who told you 'not to tell'?"

Joe hesitated, glancing at Gene, then Alex, then at the photo; he nodded slowly, freezing, half-shaking his head, and then nodding again, chewing his lip as he did so, eyes mistrusting as he looked again at Ciaran's face- Alex frowned, but said nothing, for once. It was Gene, in the end, who spoke next, and his question surprised her.

"Did you know 'is sister, Sophia?" he asked, his eyes narrow, watching as Ellison flinched, bursting into renewed shakes as he bit on his nails, already so low down on his fingers that they bled as his teeth attempted to break them. Joe nodded eventually, though his eyes remained clenched shut and his sobs continued.

Alex frowned, and then glanced at Gene, then back to Joe. "And Jess Meridan? Did you know about her affair with Jeremy McKellen?" Alex's voice was soft and gentle, but Joe's reply was an instant nod, a bitter, wrenching sob leaving his throat... Barely a second later Gene was out of the chair and leaving the room, his coat billowing behind him as he went. Alex blinked, glancing at Joe, then after Gene, before murmuring "interview suspended," and following his lead.

---

"Need to talk to Ray," Gene said as they walked swiftly down the corridor, Alex hurrying to keep up with his long strides. She resisted asking questions, noting the concentrated knit of his eyebrows, the stubborn set of his lips that said he'd had an idea, a hunch, a suspicion that he needed either confirming or denying before he let anything else distract him... They passed Viv, giving him swift instructions to make sure Joe didn't leave, before entering the main office, watching with a slight hint of amusement as Ray quickly shoved the magazine he was reading beneath the desk. Alex rolled her eyes, catching a brief glimpse of a large-breasted woman wearing nothing but a leather thong as it fell to the floor, before she and Gene were at Ray's desk.

"The Merlot interview, Ray, where is it?" Gene's voice was impatient, his forehead creased into a frown, and Alex was struck slightly as she realized this wasn't the first time he had questioned Sophia's involvement. His hand was held out, his long fingers twitching impatiently, and Alex watched as Ray unlocked his top drawer and handed the tape over, surprised that it was so close to hand.

"Why isn't that in the evidence room with-?"

"Not now, Bols," Gene interrupted. Glancing at Ray, he muttered, "any calls, take one of the unmarked cars and sort it out- you're in charge." He didn't wait for Ray's response, simply turning away and heading into his office without so much as a backward glance. Alex looked at Ray, who looked particularly self-important, but he said nothing as she raised a questioning eyebrow, merely shrugging his shoulders and lighting up a cigarette as he retrieved his abandoned magazine from beneath the desk. Alex rolled her eyes, and then followed Gene into the office, opening her mouth to speak, but having him beat her to it the moment the door had clicked shut behind her.

"Told Ray not to let the thing out of his sight 'til I said so," Gene explained, pulling his tape player down from the top of a shelf and placing it on the desk, discarding the tape currently within it without a care, ripping the plastic casing away from the Merlot interview and slotting it into the player swiftly, speaking hurriedly as he pushed the lid down and reached for the whiskey bottle and tumblers at his side. "Should've spoken to 'im last night, really..." he shook his head in annoyance, unscrewing the cap of the bottle as he went on in explanation. "I didn't like it when she started sniffin' around," he muttered, "I mean, sure he's 'er brother, but she wasn't worried about him- something else got to her – she did too much bloody thinking about how to land us in trouble, I just didn't know what was naggin' at her..."

Alex blinked, watching as he poured amber liquid into either glass. "What?" she asked, frowning in unhidden confusion. "I don't see what else there could have been to be worried about... he's her brother, it's only natural for-"

"Bols, most people who want their brother out of prison talk to him when they get the chance, with or without another person in the room; she buggered off and got on 'er high horse about it- I wanna know why." He handed her one of the glasses of whiskey, swallowing down his own and pouring another generous measure into his glass in the space of thirty seconds, before taking a seat.

"Because she wanted to be alone with him?" Alex suggested, frowning. "Because she wanted to tell him not to do anything stupid, or-"

"Exactly," Gene muttered, swirling his whiskey and eyeing the player thoughtfully. "But stupid for who? She wanted him to 'ave a lawyer – someone to get him out without having to do too much talking himself..."

Alex stared for a few moments, and then frowned. "That's perfectly normal, Gene, plenty of people-" she trailed off as he looked at her pointedly, then started to talk again. "I don't know what you're saying, but-?"

"Alex, think about it," he said, his tone gravelly and low, "what links her and the three other main people in this case? Rosa, Ciaran, Joe and Sophia- what've they all got in common?" His eyes were imploring, and a moment later, it clicked.

"Jeremy McKellen?" She asked, surprised, meeting his gaze with a look of confusion. "But- why has that got anything to do with Ciaran killing Rosa? Jeremy was in Tunisia when they found-?"

"It's just a hunch, Alex- I'm only guessing," he growled. "But I'm thinking a bloke who feels guilty fer leaving his daughter when she got ill ain't the best shag on the market... And if Ciaran's as soft and eager to help Rosa as 'e's been makin' out, she didn't exactly have to push too hard, did she?" He glanced at her, frowning at her facial expression. "You follow?"

She was staring at him in disbelief, but he wasn't sure whether it was dawning understanding, or genuine worry for his state of mind; when she nodded and began asking questions, he breathed a sigh of relief. "You think Jeremy spoke about her?" She said, her forehead crinkled slightly in thought.

Gene ground his teeth, and Alex could tell he was fighting with the part of him that wanted to hate the father who walked out on his child, and the part that could finally begin to appreciate just how much personal emotion could impair a person's judgement. She watched as he nodded reluctantly, taking another drink and avoiding her gaze.

"I reckon he wasn't such a hard bastard, yeah," he conceded, finishing the whiskey off and topping it up yet again a few moments later. "An' I don't reckon she'd 'ave liked it much, either, havin' him harp on about it all the time..." he chewed on his lip, frowning when he saw her face fall slightly. "What?" He asked, worried. Alex blinked, glancing away and swallowing hard.

"Is that how you feel?" She asked after several moments, during which Gene had stared at her blankly. Now, he spluttered slightly, looking at her in utter disbelief.

"What'd you mean is that how I-?"

"When I talk about Molly," she said, feeling her own teeth pierce the flesh of her lip as she tried to fight back a rush of emotion. "Is that how you feel?"

Gene stared at her, blinking and gawping for several moments before he spoke again. "Bols, I'm just saying it'd-"

"Gene," Alex whispered, "answer the question."

He kept staring, but then a moment later he was around the other side of the desk, stopping a few centimetres away from her and looking down into her eyes, unsure whether to touch her or not. After a few pained seconds, seeing tears brim on the surface of her eyes, he wrapped her in his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead. "No, Bolly," he whispered, his voice full of promise and sincerity. "It ain't how I feel- maybe if yer husband was still around, or if you'd gotten back with him after the divorce... but I ain't bothered about Molly, Alex; she's just a piece of you I ain't got to know yet..."

He stroked her hair, attempting to keep the frown from his features as she sighed against him, relaxing into his chest and slipping both of her arms around his back, shaking her head in sadness, disbelief and confusion; she couldn't bring herself to tell him that he'd never get the chance to meet Molly.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, drawing back slightly to look at him. "You were saying something before?" She looked at him imploringly, telling him to go on, but Gene looked hesitant; she sighed. "I'm fine," she assured him, though the certainty didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm just being sentimental. What were you saying about Sophia?"

Gene ground his teeth in hesitance, and then nodded, realising that she didn't want to talk about it and slackening his tight hold on her slightly. "I just think..." He gulped, fingers tangling in her hair before he went on. "I mean, if it was me, an' I'd- if I'd left a kid 'cause of that, I'd have hated meself for it... I'd wanna talk about it, y'know? I wouldn't just keep it quiet... an' it'd worry her, right? With his Missus and Rosa still about, an' him spoutin' off about 'er left, right an' centre, she'd get her knickers in a knot, wouldn't she?" He glanced at her questioningly, to see if she was following, and found her to be nodding her head in understanding.

"Yes... But then it's a large leap to decide that Rosa's death came about because Sophia didn't like Jeremy being sentimentally attached to her; it's not exactly a logical assumption based on fact, is it? And all of Jeremy's friends said he never spoke about her..." Her eyes were clouded with thought, and Gene sighed, gently drawing her into his chest.

"Yeah," he conceded, "but they're blokes; I don't tell Ray everything I tell you..." He hesitated, and then murmured, "somethin' about birds, Bolly; we all end up spillin' our guts." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before towing her around the desk, settling into his chair and drawing her into his lap as he reached for the tape player. "Let's just- let's see what 'e says, 'ey?" He hesitated, glancing at her and seeing the trepidation on her face as his fingers stopped at the play button.

"You just want it over, don't yer?" He said, feeling his heart twist slightly in his chest. She turned to him, her arm around his shoulder as she nodded, teeth biting down on her lower lip.

"Yes," she admitted, not noticing the clench of his jaw, or the tightening of his hold around her waist as she said it. She rested her head on his and sighed, her breath teasing across the skin of his forehead, breezing through his hair. "I guess I just want to see it finished so we can all just forget about it..." She pressed her lips lightly to his temple, but Gene tensed, gulping slightly. Alex drew back, frowning. "Gene, is everything alright?"

He nodded slowly, his jaw tight as he muttered, "fine... I'm fine... Are you fine?" He glanced at her worriedly, finding her staring at him in blatant confusion.

"I'm fine, Gene..." She trailed off, noting the way he averted his eyes, watching as he nodded absently, his fingers still hesitating over the button of the tape player, though now they were clenched and white-knuckled.

She waited for him to say something for what felt like an age; when he didn't, she cupped his cheek, drawing his face round to look at her and searching his eyes concernedly. "Gene, please tell me what you're thinking," she implored, tracing her thumb across his lips. He leaned into her hand for a few moments, his mouth opening slightly as though about to say something, before he thought better of it, tugging her hand away from his cheek and instead holding it firmly in his, severing eye contact and reaching again for the tape player. Alex sighed, watching as he pressed down on the play button with more aggression than was strictly necessary, his knuckles cracking as he drew his hand away and clenched his fist on his thigh.

She thought she heard Ray's voice start to sound from the little black box, but just as quickly as Gene had started it, he shut it off, biting his nails in nervousness as she watched, his skin slightly pale in the dim light. Alex couldn't think what to do; her head spun with confusion, her hand squeezing reassuringly on his as he looked anywhere but at her.

"Gene, I really think you-"

"Tell me I'm being stupid, Alex," he said quietly. Alex stared, bewildered as he went on, his grip on her fingers tightening. "Tell me that once this is over thing's ain't gunna change." For the first time, he looked at her, his blue eyes searching and, to her surprise, fearful. She blinked, reaching out to stroke his cheek once more, fingers gentle and cool on his skin, even as her eyebrows creased in a slight frown. She spoke to him carefully, her voice soft.

"Gene, what are you talking about?" She murmured, running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes at her touch, his breathing slowing slightly as he allowed her to draw him against her chest.

"Nothin'..." he muttered, shaking his head slightly, his nose brushing the warm skin of her neck as he did so; she shivered, and he couldn't help but smirk to himself before pressing his lips against her skin, gently easing the fabric of her top aside to kiss the soft, warm flesh that rested above the gentle beating of her heart. "Bein' stupid," he told her, removing his mouth from the soft skin and instead placing his ear against her chest, her pulse loud and reassuring as he breathed deeply. "Just being a twonk," he said, closing his eyes again.

Alex glanced down at him, biting her lip hesitantly as her hand traced continually through his hair and down his neck. "Tell me," she whispered, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "Please?"

She could feel his trepidation, feel the tension in his spine, the uncertainty as his hand slipped to her waist and his long fingers dug tightly into her skin. She was certain he heard her heartbeat treble, certain he was one hundred percent aware of her worry as she looked down at him, but it took him several moments to speak, and he didn't move away from her when he finally did so, as though he couldn't manage it. "If the case is over, Bols, what 'appen's to us?" His voice was quiet and nervous, showing all too plainly that he wasn't used to addressing this type of issue, that he didn't want to... "You gunna realize yer don't need me anymore? Figure nobody's gunna get yer now so yer can slope back to yer flat and forget we ever 'appened?" It came out more spiteful than he intended, and he expected her to pull away from him as he heard the acidity in his tone, the cruel and bitter resentment that he wholly expected her to slap him for...

To his surprise, she laughed at him, causing him to jerk his head back up to look her in the eye. Her hand found his cheek, stroking it dotingly as she smiled down at his startled expression. Gene stared at her, trying to work out what exactly she was laughing at; he failed, and his eyes narrowed, jaw gritting slightly. Alex shook her head, still grinning as her spare hand ran over his shoulders. "You think I'm with you because I'm scared?" She said, evidently amused. He ground his teeth slightly harder, saying nothing. Sighing, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Gene, how long have you been thinking about this?"

He shrugged, glancing away. "Dunno..." Liar, he thought. Eventually, he decided to tell her, conceding with a reluctant sigh before speaking. "Since we brought Merlot in..." He said, then frowned. "Well... after 'is interview, anyway..." His confession surprised Alex, and she blinked.

"Why?" She asked, evidently confused. Gene tapped his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair, his jaw tight as he spoke.

"Guess I'd never expected us to find who did it," he admitted after a few long moments, avoiding her eyes in fear of what he might find in their depths. "Hadn't really thought about it before just... when he said 'e'd done it, an' we'd basically got our man I-" he hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was softer. "I didn't know 'ow long you'd stick around after it was over... we only got together 'cause he topped 'er an' yer got worried... Couldn't 'elp thinkin' maybe you'd- y'know..." he gulped, and then went on, "I didn't know if you'd stick around when he was off the streets..." He bit on his nails for several long moments, and then glanced at her face; it was, for some insane reason, a slight comfort to see her looking upset, and he slid his arm tenderly around her waist, drawing her into his lap and pressing a kiss to her neck. "Don't wanna lose you..." he told her softly.

Alex rested against him, feeling all strength leave her body as the realisation of the depth of his worry crashed around her. The absurdity of the statement at first hearing seemed to fade as she considered everything; after all, she'd wanted him for months before the case began, but it was only after weeks of his comfort and protection that they finally relented and gave into their feelings.... Would they have gotten their act together without the insistent presence of worry and fear that had driven them together in the first place? Maybe, she thought, her arm slipping around his shoulders as his lips brushed up the column of her neck, but she couldn't be sure... Until she'd broken down on him all those months ago, she had been adamant that they could never be anything more than colleagues and friends; it was only once he'd taken her in his arms that she'd realized the depth of her dependence and feeling for him.

She wanted to tell herself it would have happened sooner or later, that it didn't matter how and why... But there was no way of knowing, and having got to know him so intimately, having learnt of his childhood and family life, she could see why the worry had suddenly chosen to surface, why he might be led to believe that the end of the case could represent the end of their relationship, but the thought itself caused her blood pressure to rocket, her breathing to sharpen in her lungs; she couldn't bear the thought of losing him, either.

She glanced down at him when he stopped kissing her, feeling his hesitance and instantly moving to trace the contours of his face with her delicate fingers, breaking out of her reverie and speaking in a tender, warm voice that she hoped was reassuring.

"You won't lose me," she assured him, tilting up his chin to meet his gaze. His eyes shone bright, clouded with emotion that he wasn't sure he could ever voice aloud, but that he knew she had to understand....

"You needed me, Bols," he murmured, kissing her knuckles lightly before he returned his eyes to her face. "An' I was there... 'cause that was where I was meant to be..." he gulped, chewing on his lip as he added, in a voice that cracked and splintered in his throat, "what 'appen's when yer don't need me anymore, Alex?"

Alex felt tears prick at her eyes, shaking her head as she rested her forehead against his and stroked down his cheek with her hand. "I'll always need you, Gene," she swore to him. "Not just because a girl was killed, not just because I'm scared, and not just because a killers on the loose... I need you, because you're everything to me now." She kissed his lips lightly, moving to his ear and pressing her mouth to the lobe, breath whispering over his skin. He held her close, his breathing unsteady as she carried on, her words warming and reassuring as his eyes closed to the sound of her voice.

"Everything," she promised him, sucking lightly on the flesh beneath his ear. "I need you," she murmured, "because without you I'm lost..."

Gene's arms tightened on her back, his face burying in her neck as he bit back a sigh of relief. "Alex..." he breathed, kissing along her collarbone and up her neck as she slipped a hand down to stroke across his shoulder blades. "Tell me..." he said, voice hoarse. "Tell me what you need..." Despite the fact that his hand slid beneath her blouse, teasing across the skin of her lower back as he pressed kisses into her throat and chin, Alex heard the burning need for emotional assurance in his voice, and knew exactly what he meant.

"This..." she whispered, guiding his mouth to the sensitive flesh at the base of her neck as she spoke. "You... making me safe... holding me..." her breathing hitched as he nibbled across her skin, his breath hot on her flesh, teeth gently grazing and teasing over the surface, followed by his tongue as it swiped gently across the marks he left in his wake.

"What else?" He asked, kissing the corner of her mouth before moving to her ear, nipping and sucking as she trembled in his arms.

"Your touch," she murmured, stroking his hair, her head lolling back slightly as his mouth continued to pay homage to her skin. "Your smell..." Gene murmured something incoherent in response, but she didn't ask him for anything further as she went on. "Your taste... your smile... your-"

"You don't need them, Alex," he growled. "You like them..." he bit down on her neck, listening to the sharp intake of breath. "Tell me what you need..." His voice was commanding, but soft and gentle at the same time; if she hadn't been sat down, her legs would have buckled.

Alex moaned slightly, cupping his cheeks and drawing his face back to meet his eyes. They sparkled and glittered, but underneath it all was his vulnerability; her heart constricted in her chest as she spoke to him again. "I need you to love me, Gene," she said quietly, stroking across his temple and down his cheek. "I need all that that entails... without it, I'm not me anymore..." Her heart raced, her hands trembling, but a moment later he'd drawn her down to his level, capturing her mouth with his and kissing her with desperate need.

"I do..." he told her, drawing away for the briefest of moments before nibbling on her lower lip. "I do..." Her tongue slid against his and he groaned, feeling her fingers thread into his hair and grasp at his skull as she whimpered, pulling him closer. "Need you, too," he whispered, sucking at her lip as she moved in his lap, her knees on either side of his hips now as she rocked against his body. He grunted, unthinkingly reaching for her jeans and slipping the button free, sliding down the zipper and pushing two fingers beneath the elastic of her knickers and into her body.

She gasped, pressing down on his fingers and rolling her hips against him, even as her words negated her actions. "Gene..." she whispered, "Gene, we should do some work, we shouldn't-"

"Not just yet," he said as he shook his head, brushing his fingers against her clit as he met her eyes. "We had sex here," he groaned, pumping his fingers deeper, "that first day... d'you remember, Alex?"

She bit down on her lip, nodding as her body began to tremble. "Yes... I remember... I-"

"Did yer need me then, Bolly?" He growled, tugging her closer and nibbling at her neck. "Tell me... did you?"

She was practically on the brink of orgasm, shaking with desire and lust as she nodded her head, her eyes closed as he stroked her once, twice, three times... "Yes..." she gasped. "Yes... always... always needed you, always-" She broke off as he pushed her over the edge, her body quivering with pleasure as she collapsed forward onto his chest, biting on his shoulder to stop from crying out, her breathing irregular and harsh, sweat beading on her brow as she absently traced her hand down his chest and towards his jeans...

He grabbed her hand, tugging it to his chest and shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to her wrist, never once breaking eye contact. "No," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Gotta do some work..."

Alex nodded, eyes reluctant, but she sank gratefully onto his chest, attempting to regulate her breathing.

"So yer won't leave?" He asked after a few moments, stroking her cheek with shaking fingers, his eyes still uncertain. She smiled breathlessly, leaning forward to kiss him once again.

"Gene, I _couldn't _leave – you know that. Just because we started because of this case doesn't mean we have to end with it," she caught his lips again, briefly, before speaking once more. "I don't want it to end... ever..." She could feel him gulp, but ignored it as she went on, "I'll always need you," she whispered. "Desperately... and that isn't going to change..."

Gene nodded, stroking down her face and neck and across her collarbone with slender fingers. "Good..." he managed eventually. "Don't want it to end either." He kissed her lightly, feeling her shiver sensually against him and almost convincing himself to have her right there; but there was a nagging insistence at the back of his mind, and he knew he couldn't... And besides, he told himself as he shifted her from his lap, if she wasn't leaving, there'd be plenty of time for shagging each other senseless once they'd figured the case out once and for all... the thought was reassuring, and he held her slightly tighter.

"Love you," she whispered, and he knew it was more of a promise than a declaration; he met her eyes and nodded, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

"Yeah," he murmured softly, "I know..." He drew her closer, lips locking together for a few moments before he breathed quietly, "same 'ere."

----

Once Alex had righted her clothes and settled back onto the arm of his chair, Gene reached for the tape player with reluctance, hesitating above the buttons for a brief second, but pressing down the moment he felt her fingers on the back of his neck, rubbing gently and reassuringly so that his body relaxed slightly. The button clicked, the tape whirred, and Ray's voice sounded, loud and clear within the office as Alex shifted closer to Gene, her leg draped across his, his hand resting lightly on her calf muscle, rubbing at her in silent reassurance. She managed a shaky smile, twining her fingers in the fuzzy growth of hair at the back of his neck. With an equally unsteady smile, he reached across her, taking her spare hand in his, and pressing a small, tender kiss to it as Ray's disembodied voice filled the room.

----

For the best part of fifteen minutes, it was what they'd heard before – Ciaran loved her, was obsessed with her, would do anything for her and it was all to prove a point, to show her how special she was... Gene's hold on Alex had tightened as once again he found an echo in Ciaran's love for Rosa, and Alex slipped into his lap willingly, her arms wrapping around him without hesitation as it went on for what felt like forever, her smell wrapping around him and causing him to sigh with relief...

But then it happened – the horrific, gruesome confession that Gene had hoped deep down never to hear, of just how Rosa McKellen's life ended.

As Ciaran spoke, and as they listened to him, his voice cracking and splintering with grief and self-loathing, Gene fought back vomit.

Alex couldn't stop herself, and threw up in the bin.

--

**Hope it was ok!**

**Big thanks to Feline yet again for her wonderful beta-ing!**

**As ever, let me know what you thought :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	34. Ciaran's Story

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**This is the darkest chapter so far – it is quite graphic at one point, and it's not Smut, but plot. I hope it will begin to tie some loose ends together, but not all of them. This is probably the most graphic/dark thing I have written, or will write in this story – I hope it's alright, but having written it I found it quite difficult and gruesome. I do think it's necessary, but I won't be offended if you skip this – if you do, and would like a summary, then message me, and I will be as simplistic and minimal as I can.**

**Thank you, as always, for your continued support, and I apologize if this is too much.**

**Huge thanks to Feline for beta-ing :)**

**---**

"She'd gone to see Benji first," Ciaran said softly. "It was their two year anniversary, so she wanted to- to say goodbye..." A moment of silence, a mutter of something incoherent from Ray, and then Ciaran was speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper, quiet and strained. "They argued – I was waiting for her outside, and I could hear them yelling, hear her crying... She told me she was just gunna leave at ten, but she'd asked him to- to..." He took a shuddering, rattling breath, one which resonated from the tape player as a harsh mimic of white noise, chilling Alex to the very core as she listened. "She'd asked him before," he went on, "and he'd always said no – said he 'loved her too much'." The scorn and bitter hatred in Ciaran's voice was unmistakeable, and Gene's arms tightened around Alex's waist as the tape continued to whir on.

"She said that he deserved another chance to prove it- said she'd be fair, let him have his chance an' then-" Ciaran hesitated, then spoke again. "He said no, anyway... and she left, yelled at him, stormed out of his flat and looked at me like she wanted to hit him..."

He couldn't be sure, but Gene was certain, as Alex wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing back at him tightly, that Ciaran's voice was happier, smiling; he could almost see his handsome face light up as Rosa walked towards him, see the scowl of utter anger on her face... Ciaran's voice surrounded him, and the image was so vivid, the words so honest and brutal as he spoke, that for a while he forgot where he was, forgot that he was Gene Hunt at all, seeing everything through Ciaran's sparkling blue eyes as he went on...

_He'd met her eyes as she left the flat, making sure she saw him, telling her he'd be there for her, that she needn't worry about anything... And then he was running, heading towards the familiar warehouse with a clenched stomach, turning down familiarly trodden side streets and back alleys until he slipped through the creaking, splintering wooden door, waiting for her in the dark, in the familiar abandoned space that offered as much comfort as it did horror._

_They'd been here before, in the years before her disease became visible, playing in the dusty building and chasing one another about, hiding whenever a fisherman walked by, or a stray dog scurried into their path. She'd brought him here again only recently – a few weeks ago, in the dead of night, sneaking out of her house to meet him while her mother thought she was sleeping. They'd spent the evening curled under a blanket as she recited verses from the Bible, all of them about him, all about her Angel... _

_He'd liked the building itself ever since; he'd come here several times when she wasn't talking to him anymore, just to feel close to her, just to remember the days that she hadn't hated him, hadn't hated herself, nor their friendship... It wasn't like the warehouse was a great example of architecture- it was rotten in places, draughty, damp, and surrounded by ugliness on all sides- but it was always filled with her- her voice, her smell, her smile, her laugh... And in its own right, it became, for him at least, a place of complete sanctity._

_Now his heart pounded away in his chest, and he could feel his affection for the place slipping through his fingers as the horror of her expectations echoed in his brain; his throat was dry, his hands clammy, and as something scurried around nearby – a mouse, he presumed, though he didn't care to look- he felt himself shiver, tightening the drawstrings at the neck of his hooded jumper and drawing the hood closer around his face. _

_The sound of her feet on the floor made him turn to meet her gaze. He knew they were her feet without looking- she always put more weight on her left foot, placing the sole down flat and making the thud more pronounced, whilst the clunk of her right foot was always lighter as it connected with the floor, the weight only on the heel as she stepped forwards... _

_She'd taken the rear entrance to the warehouse, and he watched her throw down her floral purse, ripping the heart-shaped pendant from around her neck and tossing it to the floor as she approached him, looking for all the world like some sort of enchantress..._

_The draught of the warehouse caused her hair to whip around her face as the wind passed through, the white blonde colour of it stark against the darkness of the night within the dank room. Her lips were set in a tight line, her stormy eyes burning with anger, glistening in the darkness as she drew closer to him, taking his outstretched hand. He went to speak, to draw her into his arms, but another, unfamiliar pair of feet sounded in the darkness, echoing through the night as a thin, slight figure appeared in the doorway. A familiar voice, pleading with her to come back... and then she turned; she turned and told Benji to leave, to go away and let her be... _

"_He's my new you." She said, her voice full of venom and spite, and he could feel the smile twitching at his lips beneath the hood, wondered if Benji could see it, if he could possibly understand how much it meant to hear her say it... And then Rosa had kissed him, wiping all thought from his mind as her slightly chapped lips brushed his own, as her thin hand tangled in his hair, her body perfect against his own, fragile to his strength as he gently drew her closer to him, afraid to hold her too tight, scared he might break her, hurt her..._

_When she drew away, he watched her, saw the lumps of pain that rose out of her skin and littered across her face, her neck, her shoulders... She was looking at him, her soft red lips parting as she smiled up at him, showing a hint of white as they parted, dimples forming on her cheek... He smiled back at her, stroking the blonde locks of her hair with a gentle touch._

_He'd always liked her best at night, he realized now. She was beautiful and perfect anyway, but somehow the dim glow of moonlight when she stood in the dark streets made her even more so; her skin glowed pale, her lips shone red, her eyes glistened and her hair rippled with colour and tone... and she smiled more. She was happy in the dark; she could amble in the shadows when she passed a shop window, didn't need to look at herself in puddles, nor in glass, nor in mirrors; she could walk with her head held high, her smile true and brilliant as she kept her hand held in his..._

_She was smiling here and now, in the darkness of the warehouse, and that was what mattered, even as she wrapped her fingers around his hand, her pale skin cold against his own, but still oddly comforting as they pressed together. His heart was pounding at what felt like two hundred beats a minute, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to stop the fear in his belly from transmuting into vomit as she led him towards a corner, smiling at him whenever his hold tightened around her hand..._

_She didn't hesitate at all as she tugged him behind a large, abandoned shelving unit, letting go off his hand and moving forwards, towards a thin layer of tarpaulin that was carefully thrown over a small assortment of shapes that were unrecognizable. She drew it back with flourish, her smile bright, her fingers clutching at the sheet as she watched his face._

_There were a number of things there- things that were out of place in the abandoned warehouse, which should have been home only to items such as tools and mouldy boxes; there was a blanket, a pillow, a hooded white jumper, a roll of bin-bags, a small handbag, a pair of black leather gloves and, amongst it all, a small, black-handled vegetable knife, with marks on the side where it had burned or melted at some point in the past. It was nestled between the purse and the jumper, looking sinister and evil, causing vomit to rise in his throat... _

_He glanced at Rosa; she was eyeing the same object as he was, but whilst his own stomach turned with disgust, her smile was unmistakeable, even in the dim light. He wanted to cry, he wanted to tug her into his arms and tell her he couldn't do it, wouldn't do it... but to let her go would be to lose her, to betray her and let her down... If he went through with this, if he helped her, if he made her wishes come true, then she would still love him... _

_He gulped, turning his eyes away and feeling her slide her hand into his, her lips at his neck as she lifted his jumper, as she slid buttons free from his shirt and reached down to his jeans... She hissed in pain as her arm jarred against him, agony contorting her face- she continued on anyway. It was in that moment that he wrapped her in his arms, lifting her gently, pushing the jumper, purse and knife aside, lowering her with tenderness onto the blanket she had reading for them, taking over as she lay beneath him, her breathing hitched with pain and pleasure as she gave him this last gift, this last demonstration of her love for him..._

_---_

_He'd lain awake as she slept, wrapped around her with his head resting on her shoulder, feeling and hearing the pulse at her neck as he stayed still, treasuring every beat of her fragile heart... But when she awoke, she barely waited five minutes before standing up, grimacing painfully, tugging on her jeans and bra before turning to him, her eyes desperate, pleading. He sat up, pulling his own clothes on slowly, before reaching into his pocket, drawing out a cigarette with trembling fingers, lighting up with difficulty and shivering, though not, he knew only too well, from the cold. _

_She reached out towards him, taking the cigarette from between his fingers and drawing it to her own lips in a surprisingly intimate gesture, exhaling with a small cough in his direction, her eyes smoky blue as she traced her tongue over her lips, handing the cigarette back quickly._

_It was the only time he saw a trace of nervousness in her gaze, a slight flicker of fear in the depths of her eyes, before it was gone, and she was reaching for the gloves he had pushed aside. She pressed them into his hands with a kiss to the forehead and a look of pleading hopefulness. _

_For the second time that evening, he wanted to say no, wanted to push her away and tell her he couldn't, that he wouldn't... and then her eyes fixed with his own, her cool, bony hand on his face, tears threatening to flood from her eyes... and he felt himself cave, felt his eyes burn as he nodded, looking away from her with his heart pounding in his ears as he brought the cigarette up to his lips once more, his breath coming out in sharp gasps as he exhaled, the nicotine doing nothing to calm him as it hit the bloodstream, rendering him empty, helpless and alone... His fingers closed around his thigh, gripping tight enough to bruise as he finished off the cigarette, flicking the end aside just as she leaned forwards and kissed him on the corner of the mouth, her smell surrounding him, taunting him, pleading with him... He knew it would be the last time; whether he went through with this vile, horrific crime or not, he could never hope to hold her, or feel her, or smell her again..._

"_Angel..." she murmured in his ear, stroking his hair delicately. "Angel..." Over and over it rang through his mind; gentle and desperate, loving and manipulative, disgusting and perfect... Her voice washed over him, powered into his bloodstream and infiltrated his thoughts as he shivered, letting her hands ease the gloves down over his fingers, tugging them to his wrists, gently squeezing his fingers through the fabric. She managed a small smile, and then a moment later she was reaching into the handbag, extracting a bottle of water, a small, white medical bottle which should have rattled but stayed oddly silent as she pushed them into his hands, her eyes still begging..._

_He couldn't look at her as he closed his fingers around it. _

_He pried the lid from the bottle, knowing what to expect, but hating the confirmation as he smelt the sterile tang of the plastic, the powdered undercurrents of the medicine itself... He bit back vomit, knowing what she wanted of him, knowing how much she needed him to help her... He caught the smile on her lips from the corner of his eye as he shivered and shook, placing the bottle on the floor. He picked up the water with shaking hands, twisting the lid from the neck, putting the plastic cap carefully on the floor, then reaching again for the medicine._

_His hands trembled slightly as he delicately placed the neck of the medical bottle within that of the water; white powder fluttered down onto the surface of the liquid, seeming to pile up for a few moments before small particles of it began to dissolve, twirling downwards within the bottle before disappearing completely..._

_Some remained on the surface, and he reached for the cap, twisting it tightly into place before shaking the concoction with vigour, watching as the water turned a pale shade of white, looking, for all intents and purposes, like thinned milk... He pushed it at her a moment later, his stomach roiling, blood pounding in his ears; he couldn't watch, couldn't bear to see her drink it, and his eyes turned away as she glugged it down greedily, swallowing every drop, every morsel, before placing the bottle down, twisting his face around to meet her eyes, smiling that bitterly perfect smile that made his heart ache with love; it was irresistible- he couldn't help it in the slightest. _

"_Angel," she repeated, smiling, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head against his chest. His hands grasped her waist loosely, his chin resting on her head out of habit as she leaned into him. "Angel..." she crooned. "My lovely, perfect, angel..."_

_His eyes stung, his arms tightening around her, his hand moving to her hair as tears tracked down his cheeks. "Go to sleep," he told her softly, his voice cracking. "I love you... Go to sleep now..." He felt her smile, felt her squeeze him gently as she closed her eyes, and felt her lips brush the slight patch of bare skin at the V of his shirt.._

_A while later, she slipped into sleep, his tears still falling into her hair, even as her breathing fell slow and steady. Hands trembling, he lowered her to the blanket, resting her head lightly on the fluffy pillow, his hand on her cheek for a brief moment before he looked again at the knife, glistening slightly in the dim shafts of moonlight that seeped through the cracks in the ceiling. Next to it lay the bin bags, and he reached for them, ripping one free and opening it, placing it to his right and glancing again at the sinister blade that was to be Rosa's salvation... With sweaty, shaking fingers, he reached for it, his hand closing around the handle and gripping it tight in his fist as he tried to forget what he was about to lose, attempting to focus only on the feelings she declared for him, the love that they shared..._

_Half-blinded by tears, he placed her arm across his lap, his fingers seeking out the deformed lump below her elbow, growing awkwardly outwards, causing her so much pain... He caressed it for the briefest of moments, stroking the soft flesh that surrounded it, before lifting the sharp blade and pressing it against the skin... It sliced into the flesh with ease, and he could feel the warmth of her blood through the glove, feel the metal blade hit the bone, jarring slightly in its stroke. The skin he had severed flapped horrifically, his tears splashed onto her skin, diluting the blood against her arm as he tried not to heave, tried to stop himself from running away... _

_He swallowed, glancing at Rosa's face through his blurred eyes as she slept on, completely oblivious as six sleeping tablets hit her bloodstream at once, sending her somewhere between a coma and a deep sleep... He peeled away the flesh, tossing it into the bag, trying to ignore the pungent taste of copper that hung in the air, and the horrible churning sensation in his stomach..._

_When he turned back, he eyed the brittle bone that protruded from her arm, glistening with blood, taunting him as her voice echoed in his ears, her desperate misery and her violent despair repeating itself over and over again... _

"_They hurt me," she'd said so many times. "It's like they hate me, like I've done something wrong, like God is punishing me for straying from his path..." He remembered the rage in his stomach, the bitter disgust that she could be so truly misled... and suddenly, without thinking, his grief combined with his anger, transmuting into hatred and anger at the small bones that had torn her life apart, that would tear his love from him and rip him into shreds of despair, even when she could feel content, happy in her final act... _

_His hatred became violent and aggressive, the knife clenched tight in his fists as he hacked, tears splashing, his body trembling, mind screaming at him to stop, to carry on, to run away, to see it through... He wept, the knife slipping in his blood covered fingers, scratching a line down her arm and causing him to cry out in despair as it scraped across the bone, the noise grating against his ears..._

_Until his blade came to her cheek, Rosa remained silent._

_---_

"She wasn't meant to wake up!" Ciaran sobbed, his voice choked, spluttering. "She'd taken so many pills, she was just meant to stay asleep! She wasn't ever meant to feel it! She wasn't! I swear to God she wasn't!" His tearful voice wrenched at Alex's chest, and though she was bent over the bin, pale as a sheet and with her hands trembling as Gene held it up to her mouth, she couldn't miss the anguish, the bitter self-hatred and disgust that echoed in Ciaran's words. They resonated like a cymbal in a cathedral, ringing on in her head as he sobbed and spluttered, choking and crying as both Ray and Chris remained uncharacteristically silent, but for the occasional muttering of "think I'm gunna be sick!" as Chris wheezed under his breath.

"She didn't want to see it!" He sobbed, "She hated pain, and she hated tablets – we were trying to make it so she got what she wanted without any of that! She wasn't meant to feel anything! She was meant to stay asleep! Please, you have to believe me! She was meant to be asleep!"

Ray's voice was deadpan, empty, and arm that Gene had kept firmly around Alex's waist tightened. "What happened?" Ray asked.

Ciaran's sob was heart wrenching, pained and broken, and Gene's eyes clenched shut in disgust as the defeated teenager told them.

----

_She started to waken as the knife cut into her cheek, her eyelids twitching, her body going into spasm, her mouth opening in gasps of pain as she came back from unconsciousness. His heart hammered, his hand stilling, his body freezing in shock and horror as she started to move, the actions stunted by the copious wounds on her body, the horrific growths that had brought this on, that he was meant to rid her of, that he was failing to erase... He couldn't move, her head resting in his lap as his hand lay limply on her shoulder, his eyes staring as she twitched and stirred. _

_A moment later, her eyes flew open, flashing like lightning in the darkness, her scream piercing the night air and making him weep with her, despising himself for the pain he was putting her through, hating every aspect of his being for failing to protect her from it. She didn't stop screaming, even when her eyes had clenched tightly shut. Instead, her body lifted from the floor, the veins in her unsullied arm standing out against her skin as she tried to escape her pain, to forget her own body... _

_As the scream stretched on, as it broke through the night and burned his ears, he found himself acting without thought, without control or consideration, his hand gripping the knife harder as he cut deeper, head spinning, one word splitting the night in two over and over again... Angel._

_----_

He was sobbing, his words lost as he wept on and on, gasping and rasping for air in the silence of the interview. It stretched on for several minutes, with no noise but that of Ciaran's grief. Ray finally spoke, though his mouth sounded dry, words spilling awkwardly from his mouth, lacking the accent, the annunciation that was ingrained so deep in Ray's character...

"What did you do with the body?" he asked, his next gulp so loud and pronounced that it registered with the recorder, obvious to Gene and Alex as they sat stock still, both fighting with their stomachs, their anger, their disgust...

"Joe..." Ciaran whispered. "Joe came, and-"

"Joe Ellison took the body?" Ray asked.

"No," Ciaran replied, voice blunt, sickened, uncaring. "He'd heard her screaming."

----

_Her scream faded away as the pulse at her neck faltered, stuttered, and then stopped completely. His fingers shook as he pressed them harder against her skin, praying in vain for the reassuring flutter of her artery beneath his fingers, for a sharp intake of breath... And, born of the fear that clenched in his stomach, he found himself begging for the scream, for the ear-splitting agony that had torn his heart in two..._

_He tried desperately to resuscitate her, to force another beat from her heart, to breathe air into her lungs enough that she could speak, say that she loved him one more time, say she wasn't sorry, say-_

"_What've you done?!" His head snapped up at the sound, his arms darting out to wrap protectively around Rosa's mutilated body, her blood seeping into the clothes he had thrown back on what felt like hours ago..._

_He could feel the sticky warmth of it as it seeped through the fabric and stuck to his skin, could taste the copper on his lips where he had tried to resuscitate her, smell the mind-numbing, sickening scent of blood that made him want to pass out, to turn the knife on himself... _

_He couldn't make out a face, but the voice was familiar, from long nights sitting in the pub watching the man drink himself stupid as he regaled story after story._

_As Joe stumbled forwards into the light, dressed in a pair of pyjamas and shivering in the cold, he fell to his knees and tried to drag Rosa from Ciaran's arms. _

"_Call an ambulance!" Joe said, panicked, jerking his hands backwards as they touched her blood, the scarlet liquid staining his skin, just as Rosa was tugged swiftly backwards, away from his touch. "Call 'em! Call 'em now!" His voice was high, fearful, terrified, and he was trembling._

"_I can't!" Ciaran sobbed. "I can't... she's gone! She's-she's gone! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"_

"_You- you killed 'er," Joe whispered, his eyes widening, sweat dripping down his face. "You killed 'er, you- Rosa... You killed Rosa, you just-"_

"_NO!" Ciaran wept, shaking his head, "I didn't! Please! It wasn't what you think! It wasn't, I promise! Please, don't tell! Please! Please don't tell!"_

_But Joe was crying, his body trembling as he struggled to his feet, staggering from the warehouse with tears streaking down his face, his legs quivering and shaking as he walked, swaying dangerously from left to right, as though drunk._

"_Please don't tell!" He yelled after Joe's retreating figure, still clutching Rosa's lifeless body to his chest. "Please Joe! Please don't tell!"_

----

But for Ciaran's rasping breaths, the tape was quiet for a while, nothing else but the sound of breathing, crying and gulping... Finally, he spoke again, his voice thick with emotion, grief, disgust and revulsion.

"Thought he was gunna tell... thought the cops were gunna get me right there and then, but he didn't... He went to see Sophia; they were friends, and she was with Jezza – him and me were the only ones who knew, but he wanted her to know what I was like..." the bitter laugh that left his throat might have been scornful, were it not punctuated by another gasp and a stifled sob. "She was bloody over the moon, told him not to tell... dunno what else she said, but he didn't do anything, and she was down at the warehouse an hour later with a bag of stuff, telling me to get rid of the body and clean up after myself..." His teeth were chattering loudly, his gasps for air deep and ragged as he spoke.

---

_She came out of nowhere; or at least, he thought she did. He'd been so absorbed in Rosa, in the horrific act he had just committed, that he wasn't even aware of her until she was at his side. In the hour that had passed, he'd managed to ease the white jumper over Rosa's torso, covering her rapidly chilling form and hugging it tight in a vain effort to keep in the warm, ignoring the scarlet smears that ruined the perfect white and closing his eyes, her scream and her gentle whispers echoing in his ears endlessly, the sight of her blood burned into his iris, and he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he would never be able to rid himself of it... _

_When Sophia started talking, her voice soft and yet somehow demanding, he had jerked his head upwards, gripping Rosa to him ever tighter as he searched her face in the darkness._

_She was knelt at his side, her hands covered in gloves, reaching into her small bag and drawing out a nail file, grasping Rosa's limp fingers despite his protests, scraping beneath the surface with such scrutiny and expertise that he had wondered, for a bizarre moment of clarity, where she had learned it. _

"_I'm getting rid of the fibres," she explained softly, scraping repeatedly without meeting his eyes. "Bag this stuff up," she ordered, nodding towards the bottles, the blanket, the pillow, Rosa's bag... "We'll take it home and burn it there."_

_He stared at her, bewildered and confused as she wiped the file on the inside of her bag before continuing with her task. He could do nothing, feel nothing, and simply sat there for what felt like forever, until suddenly she turned on him, her eyes blazing angrily. _

"_Do you know what you've done?" She snapped when he didn't move. "Do you know how much trouble you'll be in if anyone finds out? Get rid of it, Ciaran, and be quick!" _

_He followed her orders in a moment of helplessness, gathering the pillow and blanket and pushing them into a bin bag, followed by the top Rosa had worn earlier on, the small purse, and the two bottles. He kept the gloves on, tying the bag up with a large knot, his fingers shaking so hard it took two attempts, before he tossed it aside. He reached for the knife and the other bin bag, closing his eyes against the burning image of mutilated flesh, tying it tight and biting back a wave of nausea, glancing at Sophia as she put the nail file away, a question in his eyes. _

_She shook her head with disgust, glancing at the smaller bag that now hung from his hand. "No," she said, "you can get rid of that lot yourself... I'll burn the rest, but you'll have to do something with that." She looked pale, and he couldn't blame her for denying him that escape, couldn't find it in himself to be upset, or worried. _

_Taking the bag and knife in his hand, he headed towards the back of the warehouse, walking on legs that trembled, his knees knocking together, causing him to stumble into various discarded boxes as he made his way towards the back entrance. He stopped when his eyes fell on the discarded purse and necklace, his legs buckling underneath him as he fell to his knees, glancing across at Sophia on the other side of the warehouse, hunched over Rosa's body... _

_He hesitated, then reached out and lifted the purse up, tracing it lightly with his thumb for a second of wistful longing, before drawing out his lighter. He flicked it on, watching as the fabric beneath the peeling plastic coating caught alight, licking at it lustily, the acrid burn of plastic a welcome change to the damp tang of blood. He dropped the purse back onto the floor, squarely on top of the locket, and stood up._

_He hesitated only briefly, his heart pounding fearfully in his chest, before he moved behind a nearby shelf, tossed the bag and knife behind it, and then threw a dirty tarpaulin over them._

_He waited ten minutes, and then returned to Sophia, nodding slightly, and then averting his eyes as she spoke. _

_----_

"She told me to put Rosie in the river..." his voice was soft, oddly calm, though still evidently hurting. "Said it'd wash me off her and you lot wouldn't be able to get me... I just... I just did it because there wasn't anything else _to_ do... And- and at the time, I'd thought maybe she was trying to help me..."

"She wasn't?" Ray's voice was surprised, and Ciaran's answering laugh bitter.

"No. She was looking out for herself and Jeremy- couldn't have him finding out her kid brother knocked off his daughter, 'cause old Jezza would hit the roof and dump her." He spat the words out, disdain and hatred evident. "She hasn't told me as much, but you sit in a cell long enough, you figure it out... Only thing she was bothered about was bloody Jeremy; if he'd copped it before Rosie, she wouldn't have cared if I'd got found out at all..."

"So, yer sister told yer to dump the body?" Ray asked, sounding sickened.

There was silence, presumably nodding, then a murmured, "Yes."

----

_She drove off with the bag in the back of her car, speeding into the dismal dark of the cold London morning and out of sight, leaving him standing at the door to the warehouse, Rosa's body cradled against his chest, the leather gloves still on his hands as he held her. He waited until the lights were out of sight, and then stepped slowly outside, his fingers gentle on Rosa's skin as he carried her towards the river. He glanced, for a few moments, at the wooden fishing boat Sophia had placed nearby, ready for him to push out onto the water and place her in the river... he ignored it, walking towards the water's edge and trembling as he looked down at her lifeless body._

_In the dim light of morning, the wounds he had inflicted were even more ugly than before; dulled down in the darkness of the warehouse, the visual impact had been less, only the smell and the feel of it really enough to turn his stomach. Now, the tendons and muscle were plain to the eye, glistening red and pink as tears rolled down his cheeks and onto her face. Blood was still seeping from each of the wounds, staining the white of her jumper and spilling down over her skin. He bit back a sob, kneeling down and pressing a hard, desperate kiss to her forehead._

"_I love you, Rosie," he whispered, sobbing into her blood-matted hair. His hand sought hers, eyes glancing one last time at their interlaced fingers, the leather of his glove stopping their skin from touching... Her middle nail was split slightly, and, in a moment of madness, he scratched the glove across it, breathing heavily when the thin strand of black thread snagged slightly and repeating the action several times..._

_Moments later, he'd lowered her to the water, still kneeling on the cold concrete floor as the currents caught her body, and she was tugged away from him one last time. When he looked down at his hand, the leather was slashed, a deep cut just visible amidst the mess of Rosa's blood; he could barely feel it._

_----_

**Hope it was ok!**

**As ever, let me know what you thought :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	35. Still Scum, Still Human

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Thanks so much to all of you who read and reviewed the last chapter – I'm glad it was at least bearable, and there shouldn't be any more to that degree! Hope this next chapter's a little more.... errr... feel good? Or at least, less gross :P**

**Huge thank you again, and a big shout to vintage1983 for beta-ing this update for me :-)**

**---**

They both stared blindly at the cassette player, listening as Ray ended the interview, as the recording stopped, as the continued whirring of the tape ran on in the empty room, silent and ominous. Alex covered her mouth with her hand, trembling all over as she slowly lowered the bin to the floor. She fought hard to stop the ache at the back of her throat, the burning semblance of grief and emotion that she was fighting to hold back, to stop herself bursting into loud, wracking sobs; she barely managed it.

Gene's arm was tight around her waist, though she could feel the involuntary tremble as it shot through his body, the disgust, the anger and the horror all held behind his gruff exterior as he tried to keep them in check, to reign in the torrent of emotion...

Alex turned her face toward him, her lip trembling as she did so, just managing to bury her face into Gene's neck before the crying came, ripping and tearing through her whole body as he enveloped her in his familiar arms. His lips descended to her forehead, his nose buried in her hair as he shushed her gently, running long, soothing fingers across her shoulders and down her spine, uttering soft, wordless murmurs into her ear.

When he finally managed to speak, having struggled to form the words in his throat for several minutes, his voice was cracked, splintering with a multitude of emotions that she was certain now she had barely glimpsed in the past. He was bitter, angry, hurt and confused, but amongst it all was the violent, corrosive hatred of betrayal; and she knew it only too well as the salty tears tracked down her cheeks and onto his skin, because she could feel it- it was gnawing at her stomach and her gut, clawing her innards to pieces as she fought once again to hold back a violent wave of nausea and vomit at the realization that, somehow, they'd managed to excuse what Ciaran had done, simply because of the feelings he professed to have...

"We've got him, Bolly," Gene managed, his voice gruff in his throat, tone icy, cold, metallic and coarse. "We got the bastard..."

Alex sobbed without pause, her fingers pushing into his hair and tangling in it with desperation. "I forgot," she whispered, choked up and weeping as she tried to speak. "How could I-? I couldn't- why would I ever-?"

Gene's arms tightened around her, his lips pressing hard against the skin of her forehead as he spoke again. "I know, Alex," he managed, closing his eyes to her familiar smell and hoping that it would go some way to displacing the violent, nauseating disgust in his stomach... But although it vaguely settled him, calming his pulse down slightly and dulling the shakes of inner rage, he could still feel the torrent of emotion as it roiled away within his stomach, tearing and ripping at his insides as his arms tightened around her.

He spoke with difficulty, his breaths harsh and ragged against her skin as he went on. "Me too..."

----

When Alex had managed to stem the flow of tears, and they'd both recovered enough to face the light of day, it was well gone three, and although neither of them had any desire to eat, they took a lunch break. As they left the office, with Alex's hand wrapped tightly in Gene's own gloved one, they stopped only once, at Ray's desk, ignoring the concerned looks on both he and Chris's faces as Gene spoke quietly.

"Get 'em in," he growled. "I want the four of them in the cells and locked up by the time we leave tonight, understood?"

"Yes Guv," Ray replied, nodding.

Gene glanced worriedly at Alex, who was pale, trembling, and looked as though she might burst into renewed tears at any moment; he gulped and drew her against him, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "We're taking a lunch break." He gave Ray a meaningful look, saw the DS nod again in Alex's direction, with a look of what might have been sympathy, and then he left, Alex's arm wrapped around his waist, her head resting almost limply on his shoulder as they walked.

----

They parked up outside their house ten minutes later, Gene letting them in at the front door with one arm still wrapped firmly around Alex's quivering shoulders, his fingers stroking her gently. As they kicked off their shoes, Fitz scrabbled to his feet and bounded in from the living room, nudging his head hopefully against each of their legs in turn, and letting out a small whine when they half-heartedly rubbed at his neck. He let out a soft, doleful whimper as they moved past him, and then followed them into the living room, his eyes downcast.

Gene barely thought at all as he walked in, straight away drawing Alex over to the sofa and lying himself down along its length, pulling her down into his embrace and burrowing his face into her neck with a long, deep breath. She simply wrapped her arms around him, body still trembling in his hold.

"Alex," Gene murmured eventually. "I-" he stopped as Fitz leapt easily onto the sofa, settling himself firmly over their feet and causing Gene to groan in annoyance, just as Alex felt her lips tug into a watery smile. "Get off, yer daft mutt," Gene started, moving to push the dog away, but Alex's hand caught his, and he stopped.

"Don't," she murmured, resting her head gently on his chest. "He's fine..." Looking at Fitz, whose eyes were still soft and dewy, she smiled, reaching one hand out to ruffle his ears as she spoke. "Aren't you boy?"

Fitz whined, butting against her hand before he wriggled up the sofa, lodging himself firmly between the two humans with a look of smug superiority. He instantly moved to push his nose against Alex's chin, and then turned to Gene, licking softly at his cheek with a playful glimmer in his eyes, tail thumping against their legs as his soft whimpers reached their ears. Alex vaguely noted Gene's half-smile, saw him lift his arm and allow Fitz to wriggle his way beneath it so that his head rested firmly on Gene's chest, nose pressing into Alex's chin once more, before either of them saw fit to say anything.

"See?" Alex smiled, glancing at Gene's face and grinning as he pretended to glare down at the dog, even as his hand ruffled the brown fur along his back.

"Yeah, alright," he conceded, meeting her eyes. "He's fine..." He hesitated, and then murmured, voice soft, "Are you?"

She bit her lip, averting her gaze and concentrating much harder than was necessary on unpicking a knot in Fitz's fur. She said nothing for several minutes, her tooth toying and worrying at her skin before she finally spoke, keeping her eyes downcast, her voice soft and only just audible. "I forgot, Gene," she said eventually, stroking down Fitz's spine as she went on. "I just- somehow, I just forgot all that he'd done... I knew it was horrible – it was always going to be horrible- but, Gene, I convinced myself that it wasn't as bad because he loved her... I told myself that I'd do anything for you, so why was it so bad that he did what she wanted? I didn't think- I didn't even remember- I completely forgot that he'd cut her up and-!"

"Alex," Gene murmured, lifting his hand away from Fitz and cupping her cheek instead, drawing her face gently around to look at him, his blue eyes glistening, even as she tried to tear her gaze away. Holding her chin firmly, he spoke again. "I did too," he told her, thumbing at her cheek. "You know I did, Bols; Christ, I was worse than you, Bols- I said I'd do it too fer Christ's sake! You ain't a-"

"Gene, I forgot; forgot that she was someone's daughter, convinced myself that he'd been in love so why couldn't he just-?"

"Alex," his voice was tight, his grasp slightly harder as he held her firm. "Stop it. We just - I dunno... we just-"

"Let our relationship get in the way?" Alex supplied softly. Gene's hand stilled on her cheek, his eyes wide, his mouth set as she gently drew her face from his hold.

"You reckon that was it?" He asked eventually, gulping hard.

Alex nodded. "Yes... I do... Harrison was right; it wasn't a 'romantic' act at all, but we both tried to defend him, to say it was all down to his feelings, his emotions, his-"

"No," Gene interrupted, drawing her face back to look at him, ignoring the way Fitz was flickering his gaze from one to the other like a spectator at a tennis match. "You don't mean that."

Her tears threatened to spill once again as she nodded at him. "Yes, I do," she managed, clenching her eyes shut as she brought herself to speak again. "Can you honestly tell me you'd have believed him telling you he loved her if it wasn't for us? Wouldn't you have just called him a 'soft nancy' and beaten him to a pulp until the truth came out?" Her voice was bitter, hurt, and cracked with disgust, and Gene could feel his hand clam with sweat against her cheek as he searched for words.

"Bolly, I ain't-!"

She interrupted, shaking her head. "Because before we were an item, Gene, you'd have laughed in his face! You'd have shouted, and bullied, and thumped, and hurt, and I'd have-"

"So loving you makes me a crap copper, does it?" Gene asked, his voice hard, eyes finally averting as he gulped back the hard lump of iron forming at the back of his throat. "Because I can see where the hell he's coming from, I'm a waste of space?"

"I didn't say-!"

"Because as far as I know, Alex, that's all your Psychology bollucks is; so if it makes me such a shitty copper, then why the hell do you preach it like the bloody bible?" His voice was seething, angered, enraged, and a moment later he'd stood up, dislodging Fitz and ignoring the hound as he scrambled towards the other side of the room. "If knowing why a bloke does something makes me so useless, then why do you nag on about it like a bloody Rabbi with a gun up his arse?"

Alex was on her feet a second later, tears streaming down her face, though Gene wasn't sure if it was rage, guilt, sadness, or a combination of all three; he hated himself as he realized that, right at this moment, he didn't care. "I never said you were a bad copper!" Alex seethed, jabbing him fiercely in the chest. "But don't you dare pretend like you didn't overlook him because of me, because of-"

"Well, I won't bloody do it again, will I?" Gene interrupted, glowering down at her. "In fact, if being with me's such an inconvenience for you, 'ow about we postpone the whole thing until you find a surgeon to remove whatever poker you've got shoved up yer jacksy?" He grabbed his overcoat from the back of the sofa and shrugged it on, face set in anger as he moved to turn away.

"Oh that's right, run away and get drunk!" Alex seethed, stamping her foot angrily. "You know as well as I do that the only reason you didn't punch Ciaran into the floor is because you thought it was-!"

"What, Alex?" He snapped, turning around and grabbing her by the shoulders. "What did I think it was? I hate it Alex! I hate the fact he did it, and I hate the fact I can see why! It makes me sick! But we've got him, and he's going down! So stop with the third degree, and trust me to do my bloody job!" His eyes were flashing, burning with hurt, anguish and despair, but Alex pushed him away.

"This is all wrong, Gene!" She hissed. "A lot of people are in love – Amanda McKellen loved her husband, but we didn't give her any sympathy for it! So why does Ciaran get empathy, Gene? Because he's a bloke? Because he's a teenager? Because his girlfriend didn't love him back? None of it matters! He killed someone- he cut her to pieces and threw her in the canal, and we ignored that because he 'loved her'! What makes him-?"

"Nothing, Alex!" Gene retorted. "Nothing makes him different! He'll be strung up in prison like some sort of turkey and raped ten times over by every bender in the joint, just like every other bastard that ever murdered 'is Missus! What exactly do you want me to say? You want me to admit he got inside my head? Want me to say I convinced myself he did it to help? I already did, Bolly! But maybe you should start thinkin' less about the fact I did it, and more about why! 'cause if it was up to me, Alex, I'd 'ave left you well enough alone!"

He stormed out then, slamming the front door behind him as he went. Alex stood frozen to the spot, her eyes still pouring with tears, ears picking up on the roar of the Quattro as it faded from earshot. She was dimly aware of Fitz butting at her leg, before she collapsed back onto the sofa, Gene's scent fresh in her nostrils as Fitz leapt up beside her, whining softly in her ear as she cried into the cushion.

---

She didn't show up again that afternoon, and Gene had to confess that he was almost relieved. He had Viv put Joe Ellison in one of the cells, telling him he'd interview both him, Benji and Sophia the next day, then spent the afternoon with Ray and Chris, chasing a couple of burglars through some side streets, beating one to a pulp and forcing a confession, working his way through a stack of paperwork, and smashing two mugs in moments of anger and disgust.

By the time half five came, he was visibly seething, and the idea of spending the next few hours with Harrison was right up there with bonking Ray. He managed an hour of silence in Luigi's, and then tossed a twenty pound note on the table, ignoring the jibes at his lack of companion and leaving without another glance. He heard a half-hearted 'goodnight' from his colleagues, but he was already up the stairs and back on the street level before he could be bothered to mutter his response of 'night'.

He got in the Quattro, then left Luigi's behind him, mind reeling and blood pounding away in his veins.

----

Alex heard him come in- not that she could possibly have missed it, given how loud he was. She listened as he cursed the umbrella stand, swore at the staircase, and kicked his shoes into the corner, presumably missing, and hitting the wall instead. She sighed quietly to herself at the inevitability of it all; he was drunk. Not that she was surprised- it was, after all, nearly half two in the morning, and if Gene was out that late, it generally meant he was enjoying round after round of whiskeys, beers, and –later in the evening, when he was too pissed to notice the difference – various other liqueurs that he'd usually fob off as being too posh or too weak.

"S'alrigh' Fitz," she heard him slur, just as the dog began to whine at him. "'s'fine. 'm fine... 's'all fine... gunna go tell 'er 'm fine..." his yawn was loud enough to reach her ears, and then he went on, voice drunk and blatant. "Yer bloody lucky she's cut yer balls off," he murmured, his footsteps heavy as he descended the stairs slowly. "None o' this 'love' bollucks... jus' a quick shag in the loos, then toodaloo, m' friend... toodaloo... To the- bollucks... need a piss..." he stumbled back down the stairs, crashing into the living room door before redirecting himself to the downstairs toilet.

She had no doubt in her mind that he missed his target, even as he went on talking to Fitz in a loud, drunken voice. "Course, yer can't 'ave sex withou' yer knackers, can yer? But it ain' all tha' great, y'know?" he was talking in what she thought might have been intended as a reassuring voice, but that came out almost bewildered. "An' love, love's crap an' all... bloody women. Yer a lucky bugger... she'll ave mine off tomorrow an' all y'know... me knackers... snip-snip-snip..." He was back on the stairs, his breathing heavy as he hauled himself up towards the landing, grunting in annoyance as he went. "Bloody joke..." Alex listened as he came to a stop outside the spare room across the landing, could just imagine him scratching his head as he glanced dumbly from one room to the other. "That way lays doom, Genie-boy," he said, slightly softer, but still loud in the darkness.

A moment later, as Alex curled herself into a tight ball and shut her eyes to look as though she were sleeping, the door opened, his drunken form staggering into the room, dropping clothes as he went, before sliding beneath the duvet, his warm body inches from hers, stinking of whiskey and fags and the car... she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the realization that, however bad he smelt, there was no trace of perfume.

"Alex?" He slurred, poking her gently in the shoulder; she didn't move. "Alex... 'm not sorry... not sorry 'bout us... love yer... really, really do..." She felt him edge closer, felt him slide his arm around her waist, but didn't respond as he placed a sloppy kiss on her shoulder. He squeezed her tight, breathing deeply, before sighing. "Talk in the mornin'..." he said softly. "Sorry I woke yer..." he kissed her neck swiftly, and then drew away, rolling to the other side of the bed, feeling the cold mattress beneath him like a kick in the teeth as he stared into the darkness.

Alex didn't move across to hold him.

----

Gene didn't sleep, but nor did he delude himself that Alex had, either. He could hear her as she sniffled slightly into the duvet, could feel her as she shifted uncomfortably on the mattress, sensed her glancing across at him when he turned his face away from her. He lay silent for hours, feeling the alcohol ebb from his system, his body going numb, tired, and weak. But still he didn't sleep; it felt strange, since he'd spent the majority of his marriage deliberately avoiding the intimacy of cuddling with his wife, but now he found that he couldn't sleep at all without Alex held securely in his arms. He wanted, more than anything, to reach out and envelop her in his embrace, to kiss away the tears that rolled down her cheeks, and to assure her he was sorry... But in all honesty, he wasn't sorry; not really. Sorry for yelling, maybe, but not sorry for loving her, not sorry for finally understanding...

He turned over, looking wistfully at the back of her head, at the curls of her brown hair, made unruly by movement on the pillow. She was wearing one of his shirts, the collar turned up and brushing against her cheek as she lay there silently. He watched as she shifted slightly, as she brought her hand up to her face, drawing the collar to her nose and inhaling deeply... he gulped, shifting slightly closer so that he could feel the heat of her radiating from her skin.

"Alex..." he murmured, lifting himself up on his elbow and reaching tentatively out to stroke down her shoulder. "Alex, please..." He felt her shift slightly, and he sighed, glancing at the clock. "Gunna make some coffee," he said, rolling from the bed, "I'll be back in a minute..." When she said nothing in return, he left.

---

Fitz scrabbled to his feet on the landing, jumping up to place his front paws against Gene's chest with a long, wet lick up his cheek. Gene sighed, ruffling the dog's fur before pushing him gently off and kneeling down to his level, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. "Do us a favour, 'ey boy? Get her talking, would yer? She's about as lively as a coma patient on dope... 'bout as cheerful, an' all." He scratched behind Fitz's ears, before pushing him towards the bedroom door, waiting a few moments as he listened for the unmistakeable tinkle of reluctant laughter as the Alsatian leapt onto the bed and butted Alex in the face. Gene smirked half-heartedly, and then padded downstairs as quietly as he could.

---

She was lying with Fitz stretched alongside her when Gene re-entered, her hand rubbing absent patterns in the dogs fur as she lay there quietly. He hesitated in the doorway, the two mugs of coffee steaming in his hand for several moments before he walked over, placing both on the bedside table to her side, before kneeling down in front of her, his hand moving to cup her cheek softly, then trailing gently down her arm to link their fingers together; relief washed through him when she didn't draw her hand away.

"You gunna talk to me now, Bols?" He asked softly, squeezing at her hand, his eyes fixed on her face. Fitz whined slightly, butting at Alex's chin with his wet nose, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he glanced at Gene.

Alex was quiet, lifting her hazel gaze to Gene's blue, her hand squeezing gently at his. "Gene, I wasn't angry at you, I just-"

"You think we let it get in the way," he finished, turning his eyes away and gulping hard. "I get it, Alex, I just don't think-"

"No, you need to understand, Gene! This is- this is dangerous! How can we live and work together when everything professional becomes personal, when every investigation we look into we confuse with our own feelings? We should never have felt sorry for him because he loved her! We let what we were feeling for each other change everything else, and-"

"Alex, stop!" Gene said, bringing his spare hand to her cheek as he shifted closer, his eyes finding hers once again. "Stop..." He tangled his fingers in her hair, stroking his thumb across her lips. "Just- just listen fer a minute, would yer? And don't interrupt just yet, alright?" He raised his eyebrow in question, and Alex nodded, sitting up and allowing Fitz to scurry around her to the centre of the bed. Gene stayed knelt down, looking up at her with his jaw tight for several seconds, before nodding. "Ok..." he murmured, closing her hand in both of his as he tried to verbalise what he was thinking, tried to determine the best way to calm her down, to make her understand...

"I don't care..." He said eventually, squeezing her hand slightly. "We made a mistake, but it's sorted, Alex; he'll go to court and he'll probably get life... So I don't care that fer a day or two I could see why the poor sod did it; last time I checked, Bols, you were all for empathy an' gettin' into their heads..."

"Harrison told us he wasn't being 'romantic' and we-!"

"Alex, we didn't say he was tryin' to buy 'er flowers and chocolates, we said he loved her and was a bloody loony! But d'you really expect Harrison to get it? He's cheatin' on his Missus with a girl in the office who's as easy as ABC. He's shagged about twenty girls behind 'er back an' all, an' 'e's got about as much compassion as Hitler with a bloody chainsaw! You want somebody to understand, Alex? He's the last bloke to pick!"

"Gene, I'm just saying-!"

"Well don't 'just say!" Gene retorted, tightening his grasp on her hands. "Alex, the two people in this investigation who haven't felt bad fer that sod are Harrison an' Ray! Two fricking blokes who've never felt that way about anyone!" He pulled her hand to his chest, holding it against his rapidly beating heart as his voice softened. "Bols, it wouldn't matter if we worked in different stations, or offices, or any of that... I'd still be bloody crazy about yer, an' I'd still get where 'e was coming from..."

She shook her head, biting at her lip. "Tell me you went back yesterday and did your job, Gene!" She implored, her voice soft. "Can you really tell me you went in there and heard Ellison's side of the story?"

"No, Alex," Gene said honestly, rubbing his thumb against her soft skin. "I can't. I went in, I beat up a suspect for a burglary and I told Viv to shove Ellison in a cell... And I'd have done it wherever you worked, Alex, because-"

"No you wouldn't!" Alex argued, shaking her head. "You wouldn't! It wouldn't have been like that, because-"

"Alex, you could be working in Newcastle, we could've argued over the phone, and I'd still have gone in there and kicked him to shit, because I was too pissed off to do anything else! An' I knew if I went in there and saw Ciaran or Ellison I'd have kicked them half to death!" He gripped her hands tighter, drawing them closer to him. "You weren't the only one who felt something, alright? You keep forgetting that I've got feelings, too, that I was just as convinced as you were!"

"I don't think that you don't have feelings, Gene! I just think that we shouldn't be able to let those feelings confuse us, to let them-!"

"Alex, we're people!" He interrupted, kneeling up and bringing his hands up to cup her face. "Feelings are just part of living; they can always get in the way..." He brought his face closer to hers, twisting her to look at him. "Why are you bein' so stubborn?" Gene asked softly, stroking her cheek. "We've done our job; we got our bloke, an' we-"

Alex hesitated, and then met his eyes, covering one of the hands on her cheek with her own. "Gene...I keep thinking- I keep remembering the day we found her, how worried I was, how-" She stopped, biting the inside of her cheek before she spoke. "It could've been Molly, Gene..."

He blinked, frowning in blatant confusion. "What could?"

"Rosa... Rosa could've been Molly... if that was my daughter, I wouldn't buy that he'd loved her- I'd tear down heaven and earth to make sure he got what he deserved! I'd probably have to stop myself killing him! So why did I believe it for Rosa?" Tears slid down her cheeks, and Gene stared for a few moments that seemed to drag on for eternity, before suddenly he stood up, settling next to her on the mattress and wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she cried on.

"Is that what this is?" He asked, sounding oddly relieved, though he hoped she wouldn't notice.

She kept crying into his bare shoulder, clutching at his arm desperately as she nodded, sniffling slightly. "If I'd been with Molly, I'd never have believed him!" She sobbed. "I'd never have let him convince me!"

"Alex, it wasn't your-!" She jerked out of his hold suddenly, shoving his arm away and jumping up.

"Gene, I convinced myself that he loved her, just because I was in love with you!" She was shouting now, tears still falling, but now he couldn't be sure what from. "Just because he could spin a few lines about how 'special' she was, I believed him! He was a murdering bastard the whole time, and I gave him sympathy! All the Psychology, all the education and experience, and I convinced myself it 'wasn't so bad'!"

"So did everyone else!" Gene snapped, jumping up suddenly and waving his arm as if to emphasise a point. "Chris, Shaz, Viv, all of them- we all did the same thing, Bolly! What d'you want me to do about it? You want the honest truth, Alex? I'd rather I didn't understand- I'd rather I'd nailed that bastard six months ago and never been able to say 'I get it'! Is that what you wanted to hear? You want me to tell you how I spent hours thinking how much I hated loving you, because I didn't want to think how far I'd go to save your scrawny little arse from pain?" He grasped her by the shoulders, staring down into her glistening hazel eyes as he went on, his voice soft. "Because I've thought about it, Alex; I've thought how far I'd go, and what I'd do for you... and maybe I wouldn't cut you to pieces, but if you really wanted to go, I'd help you. And that doesn't mean I don't know that Merlot's scum; it just means I know he's human."

Alex stared up at him, her lip quivering, and a moment later he was holding her tight, his arms wrapped firmly around her as her hands rested loosely on his waist, her tears pouring.

"I can't change it, Bols," he said softly, eyes closed as he murmured into her ear. "An' I wouldn't if I could... I'm not sorry 'bout how I feel." He kissed her forehead, breathing her in for a few moments as she sobbed continually, her nails digging into his flesh as she tried to calm herself down. When he drew back, she was trembling, and he steered her towards the bed. "Here," he murmured, pushing a coffee into her hands. "Drink that... I'll just go and-"

"Gene?" Alex whispered, both hands closed around the hot mug in her hands as she looked up at him. He gulped, and then met her eyes.

"Yeah, Bols?"

She reached one hand out to catch his, her thumb tracing across the back of his palm. "Do you think we should talk about a transfer, or-?"

"No," he answered quickly, shaking his head. "You're not transferring, an' neither am I."

"Gene, please... we can't let our feelings-!"

"Feeling's always get in the way, Alex," he said, grinding his teeth as her fingers tightened on his own. "Doesn't matter whether you're shaggin' someone or not; you're always worried about some people more than others. If you'd stuck Sam and Ray next to a bomb, I'd have saved Sam 'cause he was me best mate. Stick Shaz next to Chris, Ray would always save Chris. Stick you next to Shaz, Chris is always gunna pick Shaz 'cause he'd die without her."

"Yes, but that's what I mean!" Alex argued, her hands clenching on the cup she held. "How can we do our jobs when we're always worrying about each other? Surely there comes a time when you've been working with someone too long for it to remain professional?"

He looked at her carefully, and then sighed, sitting down beside her and drawing one of her hands away, threading their fingers together as he spoke. "You really think I won't worry about you if you're at another station?"

"I won't be there for you to-"

He nodded. "Exactly; I get cranky when you go an' make a coffee, Bols - an' not just 'cause you're awful at it, either. You worked in Harrison's office fer two days and I had to come see you every lunch time just to make sure you hadn't tripped over the bin and cracked yer head open!" He glanced at their hands, feeling her eyes on his face as he did so. "D'you honestly think it'd stop me getting work and home mixed up, Alex? I'd be ringin' you every chance I got, I'd screw at yer DCI if you got so much as a bruise on yer knee, I'd end up talkin' to you about cases at home anyway... An' if some sod said 'e was in love with 'is Missus, I'd still understand just what he meant, whether you were halfway across town or not..." He glanced up at her face, seeing her sad smile as she moved to rest her head on his shoulder.

"An' I'd miss yer," he said softly, stroking her hair gently as he spoke. "So please, don't put in for transfer... Just- just don't." He trailed off, watching nervously as she hesitated, and then nodded, her hand lifting the coffee to her lips.

"Ok," she whispered softly, before taking a drink.

"Ok, you won't?" Gene asked. "Or ok, you just want me to shut up?"

Alex smiled, shaking her head at him. "Ok, I won't put in for transfer."

"Good," he said, with a breath of relief. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and reached for his own drink as Alex settled against him, her cheeks still damp with tears. He took one gulp, and then placed both of their cups on the floor, tugging hers easily from her unresisting fingers before he joined their hands together once again.

He waited a few moments, his fingers twiddling the ring on her middle finger before he spoke. "Y'know yesterday," he said eventually, his voice quiet, "when I said I'd 'ave left well enough alone?"

Alex nodded, her eyes fixed on his hand, trying not to betray the worry that was pounding through her veins.

He hesitated a few moments, and then shook his head. "I didn't mean it... I mean- not really... I mean, I did but, I didn't- I don't regret it Alex... any of it."

She looked at him in confusion. "You don't regret saying it?"

"No!" He said quickly, hurrying to correct himself. "No, I mean, I don't regret this... Us... I just- I got mad, Bols, I didn't-"

"I know," Alex murmured, squeezing at his hand. "I'm sorry; you didn't deserve me reacting like that... I know it hurt you, too, hearing everything..."

"Yeah..." He could think of nothing else to say, and so he pulled her back into his chest, lips to her forehead as his hand stroked down her back. Fitz crawled over once again, apparently satisfied that the row was over as he sprawled himself across Alex's legs and rested his head on Gene's lap.

"Gene?" Alex whispered after a while in silence, her head still resting against the reassuring thud of his heart. Gene looked down at her, his eyes soft as his long fingers traced over the elegant line of her cheek.

"Yes, Bols?" He murmured softly, his lips dropping to the top of her head for a brief moment.

She looked up at him, watching for a few moments, her eyes unblinking, until she gently raised one hand to his cheek, fingers rasping against the slight scattering of stubble that littered his face. "I love you; you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, Alex," he murmured, catching her hand in his and bringing it gently to his lips. "I know... just – just sometimes, I wonder if you know it, too."

Her eyes stared back at him, glistening and fearful, before he kissed her lingeringly, his mouth and lips soft against her own. He drew back after a few moments, his fingers tangled in her hair, shaking his head when she went to speak. "I didn't mean that like it sounded," he said, gulping slightly and averting his eyes for a few moments.

When he looked back, she was biting on her lip, tears brimming as he cupped her face gently. "I know you do, Alex," he promised, stroking away a tear as it slid from her eye. "I just wish yer wouldn't use it as an excuse when things go to shit." He kissed her again, gently sucking at her lower lip before he pulled away, feeling Fitz butt lightly at his elbow in a vain demand for attention. "Get some sleep, Bols," he murmured, pressing his lips against her cheek before gently pushing Fitz from their laps. "We can talk later."

**----- **

**A big thanks to Vintage 1983 for stepping in to beta this chapter :-)**

**Hope it was a little less grim than the previous one :P**

**Mage of the Heart**


	36. Perverting Justice

''**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Huge thanks to everyone who is still reading – it's great to hear your thoughts and feedback, so please do keep it coming :)**

**Thank you!**

**Hope it's alright!**

**---**

Gene went upstairs to wake her at eight, gently brushing his lips across her forehead, whilst his fingers tenderly caressed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking almost drunkenly in the dim light of the room, before they suddenly fixated on his own, her hazel meeting his blue with a strange mixture of both surprise and relief. Gene managed a small, tentative smile in response, before moving to draw his hand away. Just as he did so, her own fingers slid into his hair, twirling her digits into the softly coloured locks as she pushed herself up on one elbow, tongue peeking out to wet her lips for a brief moment, before she gently pressed her mouth to his.

Gene froze slightly, surprised, not only by the sudden movement, but by the willingness of her touch in light of their recent argument. He waited for her to pull back; when it didn't happen, he remained still for only a few seconds, before responding slowly, one of his hands sliding down to push aside the duvet that covered her waist, whilst the other tangled into her bouncy curls, his mouth moving gently against her own. Alex nibbled softly at his lip, pulling his head closer to hers as her other arm slid around his back, her kiss insistent and imploring. .

With a soft sigh of concordance, Gene settled himself down alongside her, resting over her as his arm snaked around Alex's waist, as he slowly eased his tongue between her lips. Her fingers found the tie that hung around his neck, gently easing it free of his collar and dropping it onto the floor at beside the bed, before returning to his shirt, unfastening it slowly as she pulled her mouth away, looking up at him softly, waiting for his eyes to flutter open... When they did, he stopped still, gaze locked with hers as her fingers continued to free the buttons of his shirt, mouth slightly open as she watched him.

"Gene...?" her voice was soft, gentle, and questioning, and he could do nothing, simply gulping hard as she pushed the shirt away from his shoulders. She dropped it next to his tie, and then hooked one leg around his waist as she pushed up at him, directing him to his back and pressing their mouths together once again. He was breathing heavily, his body responding all too well to hers as she straddled him, her kiss imploring, desperate, needy, wanton, and he felt himself yearning for her, itching to push her straight to her back and have his way with her...

It was only the warm droplet of salt water which he felt trickle onto his lips that brought him back to his senses, that caused him to tear his mouth away from hers a moment later. His hands moved up to her face, cupping it delicately within his hold as he soothingly traced his fingers down her cheek, pressing his lips briefly to her own before drawing away.

He looked up at her, trying desperately to ignore the sudden realization that she was sleeping in one of his shirts, and that, unless he was severely mistaken, she had apparently misplaced her underwear since he'd slipped from the bed hours previously... He felt all his blood rush southwards, and it was only the still escaping tears that tracked down her cheeks that offered him his escape, his salvation...

He pulled her down towards him, his lips pressing gently to the corner of each of her eyes in turn, the salty liquid wetting his lips as he spoke softly into her skin, his hands stroking her hair lightly, breath hot against her flesh.

"Not now, Alex," Gene murmured quietly, not pulling away, his eyes closing slightly as he brushed his lips across her eyebrow. "Later... not now." He rolled her over, lying her down gently, stroking her hair and cheek in a small gesture of reassurance as she averted her eyes, biting hard on her lip to try and stem the flow of tears. "Sorry..." he muttered, gulping heavily. "I just- doesn't seem-" He stopped, directing her face towards his own so that he could meet her eyes, gently trailing one finger across her lips. "You're gorgeous, Alex," he murmured. "I just-"

"Hold me?" She whispered, interrupting him with a cracked whisper, tears spilling swiftly down her cheeks now, tracking down the contours of her delicate features at speed. Her hand moved to his shoulder, tightening around it, and a moment later he'd gathered her against him, had tugged her protectively into the circle of his arms, and was pressing his lips hard to her forehead.

"Shhh..." he soothed, stroking her hair as she clung to him with sudden fierceness. "Shhh... it's ok... I'm 'ere..."

"Gene," she whispered, sobbing softly. "I'm sorry – I don't want to leave, I don't-"

He interrupted swiftly, holding her tighter, his fingers tangled in her hair. "I know, Alex," he whispered, dropping another kiss to the top of her head as his fiercely embracing arms crushed her to his chest; "I know..."

---

They drove into work an hour later, with Gene eyeing her warily the whole time, conscious of the glazing of her eyes whenever she allowed her attention to drift slightly. Once or twice, he caught the change of colour as her skin drained white, and had to reach over to stroke her cheek on more than one occasion, waiting for the gentle flush to return to her face.

After buying them both breakfast – a bacon buttie for Gene and a cinnamon pastry for Alex- he walked her into the station, his arm kept firmly around her waist, even as they entered a strangely deserted CID. Oddly relieved by the lack of company, he perched himself casually on Alex's desk, his long legs stretched out lazily in front of him, before he wrapped himself around his breakfast with vigour, pausing only occasionally to glance in her direction.

"Where is everyone?" Alex asked after several minutes of unerring silence, having finished off her pastry and tossed the serviette into the bin.

"Ray's bringin' Bragden in," Gene replied, swallowing his last mouthful and grinding his teeth slightly as he binned his own rubbish.

"I thought you told him and Chris to-?"

"Yeah, I did..." Gene muttered, gulping. "Before... well, before you and me- y'know..." He gulped, trying hard to think of something to say, and then he sighed, rubbing his head tiredly. "Merlot's sister turned out to be a little bit more of a handful than they first thought; it took 'em two hours to find her, an' when they did it sounds like she showed some skin and Chris got shell-shocked..." he shook his head in bewilderment before he went on. "Anyway, Ray cuffed 'er an' got a kick in the nuts fer the pleasure, an' somehow Chris managed to trip the daft bitch over when she made a run for the door." His hand slid into his breast pocket, selecting cigarette and lighter swiftly, before lighting up and glancing out of the window.

"I'm surprised she didn't make a run for it once she realized we'd arrested Ciaran," Alex mused lightly, resting her chin in her hand and looking up at Gene thoughtfully. He shrugged, taking a slight drag on his cigarette before answering her.

"Probably thought he'd keep his gob shut to keep himself out of prison... From what he said, she didn't know 'e left all the evidence behind..." He took another drag, and then muttered, "That, or she was hoping we wouldn't be able to find 'er."

"Where was she, out of interest?" Alex asked, toying with the hem of her blouse.

"McKellen's old house," Gene said, frowning. "She was right though- they didn't think about it for ages; surprised she didn't sniff 'em out an' leg it in the time it took 'em to put two an' two together."

Alex sighed, rolling her eyes. "You don't give them enough credit; they got her, didn't they?"

"Yeah," Gene conceded with a nod, "s'pose so... but they still can't tell their arses from their elbows!"

With a small laugh, Alex stood up, taking his hand in hers as she stood herself gently between his outstretched legs, her eyes fixed on their interlinked fingers as her tooth toyed at her lip. "Thank you..." she murmured. "For this morning, I mean..." she gulped, before speaking quietly, her eyes averting to the floor as her voice dropped significantly in volume. "You don't know how much it meant that you were there..." She kept her eyes downcast, her tooth biting at her lower lip as she waited for him to say something.

Gene reached out with his hand, cupping her face before he tilted her chin gently upwards, his glittering blue eyes meeting her soft hazel. When he spoke, his voice was a gentle, warm, rumbling murmur in the quiet room, and Alex felt her stomach melt as his fingers traced the contours of her face. "I live with you, Bols," he said softly, "where else was I gonna be?"

She smiled weakly, stroking his cheek with a tender caress before pressing her lips to his skin. "Anywhere outside of twenty miles from me?" She suggested bitterly. "After how I behaved yesterday, I wouldn't have blamed you if you stayed away all night..." She reached out a tentative hand, brushing a hair from his shirt as she sighed, closing her mouth before she said anything else. He watched her closely, his eyes intent, his cupped hands drawing her towards him before he closed the distance between their mouths, gently sucking her lower lip between both of his.

"I was sat outside all night, Alex," he murmured softly as he released her from his kiss. "I was parked up down the street with a bottle of whiskey an' a packet of fags, listening to Nancy FM with some poofter talkin' about 'ow perfect 'is Missus was," he sniffed in distaste, glancing down at her hand, which was now stroking up his tie in a vain attempt at distraction. "Missed you," he said quietly, slipping his own hand over hers and tangling their fingers together. "It ain't the same gettin' pissed without you tryin' to nag me ears off..."

"I don't 'nag your ears off'!" She said defensively. "I just tell you when you're over the-!"

Gene chuckled, drawing her closer and sighing. "You're right," he murmured, closing his eyes as her scent descended on him, surrounding him completely... Chuckling lightly, he tweaked her nose teasingly, his lips quirking into a grin as he did so. "You spend most of the time tryin' to nag me trousers down around me ankles... then you complain I'm too pissed to drive..." She slapped him lightly on the arm, but couldn't help the light laughter that escaped her lips as he drew her in for another kiss, grinning slightly as his tongue slid against her lips. She responded softly, her arms draping around his neck, fingers in his hair as he deepened the kiss with a soft groan, a sigh of delight... He tugged her closer to him, drawing her firmly between his legs as he nibbled and sucked at her lips, hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her arse...

A light cough nearby brought them crashing back to earth, and Alex jerked away from him with a red flush over her face, although Gene drew her back against him swiftly, shifting uncomfortably to hide his evident arousal, his arms kept firmly around her as he looked towards the door; Ray wash watching the floor in evident embarrassment, his cheeks tinged uncharacteristically pink as he gulped uncomfortably, then spoke with a gruff manner that betrayed his awkwardness.

"Bragden's in the cells, Guv," he muttered, running one hand distractedly through his permed hair. "He's askin' fer DI Drake, but-?" He stopped short, glancing at the possessive way Gene had a hold of the DI before adding, "Well, I'll just tell 'im she ain't available, shall I?"

"No," Alex said, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine, I'll be right down, just- just give me two minutes, alright?" She held up two fingers for a brief moment, as if to reiterate the point; Gene thought he saw the vein in Ray's jaw jump in annoyance, before the DS nodded and left the room. Alex then turned back to Gene, her tooth toying with her lip as she spoke. "I'd better-"

"You'd better wiggle yer arse in that direction I s'pose," Gene murmured reluctantly, tugging her still tighter into his arms and sighing into her hair. "I'll see yer later, I guess..." He muttered reluctantly, kissing her cheek and allowing his hand to wander appreciatively over the backs of her thighs as he went on. "Make sure he knows I'm gunna spear his bollucks with a coat hanger for not tellin' us everything, alright?" His voice was terse and cool, and Alex frowned.

"He did tell us- he told us about seeing 'Angel'"- she waggled her fingers slightly, and then went on – "in the warehouse, and that Rosa had been there that night... he told us the same as Ciaran..."

Gene nodded, avoiding her eyes as he ground his teeth. "Yeah... maybe... just tell 'im what I said, Bolly, will you? I'm not convinced he's told us all of it."

Alex sighed, shaking her head slightly before drawing back. "You could always come with me?" she suggested, picking up her jacket from the back of her chair, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Snorting, Gene pushed her towards the door, his hand in the small of her back as he spoke. "Reckon he'll be more than a little reluctant if I fly in there right now- last time he saw me I bashed him up with fists o' fury." Pressing a soft kiss to the back of her neck, he spoke again. "And you're a bird," he said, grinning lewdly as he added, "we like openin' up to birds, so to speak." With a sharp slap to her behind, he added, "But if you need a bit of testosterone in the room to wet yer appetite, get Viv to come get me." He grinned, pushing her forwards before he headed to his office, running a hand through his hair with a slight sigh. Alex rolled her eyes, hiding a smile before she turned towards him, watching his retreating back with a roiling warmth in her stomach.

"Gene?" she said, resting her hand against the door frame. He looked back at her, quirking his lips and raising one eyebrow in query.

"Yes, Bols?" He asked, crossing his arms as he leant back against the office door.

She hesitated for only a brief second, and then spoke, her voice soft and tentative, but dripping with certainty and sincerity. "I do know I love you; better than I know anything else... It's just that sometimes, I'm not quite so sure I know how to handle it..."

Gene stood still, watching her carefully for several moments, before nodding his head gently. "Yeah, Bolly..." he said softly, not breaking eye contact, "that makes two of us." They both looked at each other for a few moments, Alex's mouth opening as if she meant to say something else, her right foot moving forward as though she intended to walk towards him... But then the door opened, and Shaz and Chris walked in, hand-in-hand and wearing identical smiles; the moment shattered, and Alex saw Gene instantly bolt into a more domineering position, at the same moment that she herself dropped her hand to her side.

"Mornin' Guv," Chris said cheerily, clearly oblivious to the broken moment as he spoke. "Mornin' Ma'am..."

Alex tore her eyes from Gene, snapping her head towards Chris, her body turning to the side as she smiled weakly at him. "Morning, Chris... Shaz," with a nod, she stepped out of the room, sparing only one wistful, meaningful glance back at Gene before she disappeared down the corridor.

Gene glanced over at Chris, offering him a terse nod, and then turning into his own office, leaving the younger couple alone, and clearly bewildered.

"Are they alright?" Shaz asked worriedly a second later, glancing from Gene's shuttered office, to the door that Alex had just exited through.

Chris shrugged, taking his jacket off and draping it over his chair. "Dunno... she looked a bit pale yesterday -maybe she's on the blob?"

Shaz grimaced, shaking her head in disgust. "That's revolting, Chris."

---

Alex stepped into Benji's cell tentatively, closing the door behind her and joining him on the ledge where he was seated. If it were possible, he'd lost weight since the last time she had seen him, and his acne was even worse; scars and cuts littered his face where he'd scratched at his spots, and the glasses on his nose were broken and held together by dirty sellotape. His fingers and arms were skeletal and bony, and whilst the clothes he wore were probably of a small size, they hung baggy from his shoulders, drowning him in the folds of fabric. His hair was greasy and lank, and had grown considerably since he had heard of his girlfriends' death; it now completely covered his eyes, and he had to push it out of the way when she entered the room.

"You wanted to see me?" Alex said, settling herself gingerly next to him and folding her hands in her lap. Benji nodded, biting at his stumpy nails and nodding his head.

"Yeah..." He said, gulping. "Yeah, I did."

Alex waited expectantly, watching him patiently before she said, "And...?"

He scratched at his cheek, pushed his glasses on his nose, and then shrugged. "Didn't want that DCI bloke to punch me again- thought you'd be less likely to hurt me than the others."

Alex said nothing, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the blatantly sexist attitude and looking at him imploringly. He waited several minutes before he said anything further, and his voice was quiet. "I didn't tell you everything last time," he admitted. Alex's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, and she could just imagine the smug look on Gene's face were he to hear him.

"Right," she said softly, "well, in that case, we'd better go to the interview room, and then you-"

"Can't I just write a statement?" He asked, looking up at her hopefully. "I'll put everything in it? It'll be quicker!"

Alex shook her head, getting to her feet quickly. "I'm afraid not; you'll have to come with me- it won't be long, providing you tell me the truth."

Benji nodded, sighing and getting to his feet; his whole body trembled as he moved towards the door, and Alex watched him nervously as she knocked against the metal and waited for Viv to let them out.

"I'm taking Mr Bragden to the interview room," she explained, glancing at the quivering teenager briefly before adding, "could you inform DCI Hunt?"

Viv nodded, offering a small quirk of the lips as he muttered, "yes Ma'am."

---

Gene was there in five minutes, slipping into the chair next to Alex without taking his eyes from Benji, who sat across the interview table with a red-faced expression of both fear and hatred. "I won't talk if he's here!" Benji said quickly, glancing frantically towards Alex, then back to Gene. Gene snorted, only to have Alex dig her heel into his toes, eliciting a sharp, pained gasp before he fell quiet, glowering at her for a brief moment as she spoke.

"I'm afraid it's procedure, Benji," she said apologetically; Gene's mouth twitched in amusement.

"You didn't have him with you all the time before!" Benji pointed out, still glowering across the table, as though by doing so Gene might simply evaporate into thin air.

"You weren't a known liar before," Gene retorted, eyes dancing with wicked mirth as Bragden shifted in his chair, gulping and grinding his jaw. Alex sighed, saying nothing as she settled back into her seat and looked pointedly across at Gene. He looked about to speak, but it was Benji that broke the silence, looking at Alex with determination in his eyes, though she thought she saw panic break through along with it.

"I won't tell you anything when he's in the room, so get someone else! I know my rights, and I don't have to-!" The teenager stopped, apparently in shock, as Gene suddenly pushed his chair backwards and stood up, moving to leave. Alex, too, looked up at him in bewildered surprise, twisting her body around to watch him as he went.

"Gene, where are you-?"

"Filin' a charge form, Bols," he answered almost instantly, though his eyes didn't meet her own, instead falling unwaveringly to Benji's face. "For perverting the course of justice an' withholding information from a senior member of Her Majesty's Police force... Hear it's about ten years for misleadin' a murder investigation these days, ain't it?" This time, he glanced companionably at Alex, exchanging a meaningful look that would have been all but invisible to anyone else; Alex felt herself beginning to grin, and instantly plastered an expression of utter seriousness across her face, composing herself quickly as she met his gaze.

"Ten?" She asked. "Is that all?" She feigned surprise as she went on. "Last I heard it could stretch to fifteen..." She trailed off, watching Benji's face crumple from confident to terrified in the space of a few seconds. Gene managed the tiniest of nods, his lip quirking upwards in wry amusement before he re-schooled his expression to one of complete impassiveness.

"Not enough if you ask me, Bols," he went on without hesitation. "Should hang the filthy scrotal rats up by a coat hanger ter the bollucks, and throw in some severe fudge-packing ponces to force out some of that shit they keep spouting..." Eyes narrowed, and after watching Benji's brow glisten with sweat, he glanced questioningly at Alex, and added, "But they brought in a law against that, didn't they?"

Fighting to keep a straight face, Alex nodded, biting down on the inside of her cheek before she spoke again. "Several years ago, wasn't it?"

Gene nodded back, pushing his chair back beneath the table as he sighed softly, "don't do it like they used to Bols, do they? Still... fifteen years should be long enough for 'em to choke a few ounces of shit out of you, 'ey Benj?" With a smirk, he turned to leave; he was at the door and reaching for the handle when Benji piped up, panicked and unnerved.

"Alright!" he said, his voice cracked. "I'm sorry, I'll tell you! I just don't want you to punch me again! I promise I'll tell you everything, just-!"

"Me?" Gene asked, feigning an innocence that caused Alex to cover her mouth in unprofessional amusement. "Punch someone?" He smiled, walking back and settling himself into his chair again. "Not me; wouldn't 'urt a fly." He reached for his cigarettes and lit up, watching Benji as he gulped and sweated across the table, his hands cupped around his trembling elbows as he sat there. Gene smoked silently, an expectant expression on his face, though he allowed Alex to break the quiet rather than do so himself.

She hit the record button on the tape machine, introduced the interview, and then looked across at Benji with a look so profoundly professional that Gene felt his trousers tighten considerably, and had to avert his eyes to avoid her seeing the guilty heat that burned in their depths.

"I need you to tell us exactly what happened; forget what you told us before, and simply tell us the truth... can you do that?" She watched Benji carefully, her eyes level and unwavering. Gene watched as the teenager shifted in his chair, as he brought a trembling hand to his mouth and started chewing at nails that had been so thoroughly gnawed in recent times, that they were now bloodied and red sore.

"I wanted to tell you before," he said eventually, gulping heavily and glancing from one to the other of them; when neither said anything, he grimaced and went on. "Look, I saw more than I said, but I still don't know who it was! I just wanted to forget about it!"

Alex nodded, folding her hands on the desk. "What happened?"

He blinked, glancing at Gene, then back at Alex, before he bit on his lip, swallowing hard before he spoke. "I did follow her, like I told you – an' I saw this new bloke with her, but I couldn't tell who he was... Just saw her chuck off her necklace and stuff and go and kiss him- he had his hood up the whole time, I really don't know who he was, I just-!"

Alex interrupted him smoothly, her voice calm and assuring. "Just tell us what you do know," she insisted softly. "We won't ask any questions just yet." She didn't look at him, but Gene knew she was sending him a silent warning; he heeded it, reluctantly, silently promising to remind her of her rank after they were finished as he settled himself more comfortably, exhaling slowly across the table as Benji spoke again, scratching at his acne and scalp as he did so.

"I didn't leave," he admitted, gulping hard. "I was going to but- I wanted to see what happened... who he was... I just- all I did was sit behind a shelf, I swear it was nothing more than that! You have to believe me, I didn't-!"

"We do," Alex assured him, nodding encouragingly. "Just tell us what you saw."

Hesitantly, he spoke again, his jaw quivering. "I didn't see much; it was dark, an'- to be honest, I wasn't exactly strainin' my eyes..."

Gene couldn't help the noise of understanding that rose in his throat at that; if Ciaran was telling the truth, he couldn't imagine Benji enjoying the display that had followed all that much.

"She showed him something," Benji murmured, "and he didn't say anything, and then they- she- they were-!" He gulped, and then whispered, "She wasn't enjoying it." A snort of amusement rose unbidden in Gene's throat, and Alex kicked him viciously beneath the table; it was Benji, though, that turned and spat at him, anger burning in his eyes. "How is that funny?" He snapped, his eyes narrowed. "She wasn't! I'd been there when she was enjoying it, and I'm telling you, she wasn't! She was practically crying for half of it, and-!"

If Alex noted the sly glance Gene sent her way, riddled with sexual undercurrents, then she said nothing, simply holding up a hand calmly and speaking to Benji in a gentle voice. "Ok... so you saw Rosa and 'Angel'"- she waggled her fingers, causing Gene to roll his eyes, "- together. Was there anything else? Any conversation? Anything at all?"

Benji gulped, and then nodded. "She kept calling him Angel... then afterwards she gave him something- a bottle, I think- and he did something to it, and then she drank whatever it was and- and-" he broke off with a rasping breath, pressing a fist to his face as he fought against the heavy flow of tears. When he had calmed himself down, his breathing labouring slightly, he spoke again, voice cracked and painful. "He said something to her... I couldn't hear it but, after a while she stopped talking, and I just- I couldn't watch any more... when I left she was asleep, and I just thought she'd be so far gone she wouldn't wake up... I left, and I didn't hear anything else until Joe came round sobbing the next morning, after you lot had found her... That's it, I swear!"

Gene raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but Alex simply nodded before speaking to him. "So you knew what Rosa intended, then?"

Benji nodded, gulping hard. "She asked me once, like I told you before; she said she knew how she wanted to go, an' when she told me, I just- I couldn't have done it however she asked me to, but it was disgusting... She didn't mention it for months, and then out of the blue she asked me again that night, and after she left I had to- I wanted to know for sure, and when he did that I- I knew what he was gunna do..."

"You could have called the police," Alex said softly, watching as the teenagers face contorted with guilt and pain. "We could have stopped anything happening to her... Why didn't you call us?"

"I couldn't," he replied plaintively. Alex and Gene both frowned, before the boy went on, shaking his head in despair. "He did what she wanted!" He whispered. "He did what I couldn't do- what I should've done for her... But I couldn't, 'cause I- I loved her too much..."

"So that's why you didn't tell us?" Alex inquired. "Because it was what Rosa wanted?"

He shrugged, gulping and glancing at his trembling hands. "I just- I'd have done anything to make her better, but I couldn't kill her, and he- whoever he was, he gave her what she wanted, and- I dunno. When she spoke about him, she was... happy, I suppose. Or happier, at least... Said things seemed better when he was there, and before I just thought they were friends, but-" he stopped, shaking his head and rubbing at his forehead with one hand. "I knew something was going on, but I didn't think he was gunna kill her- at least not at first... I just thought she was making herself feel better..."

"So you knew she was shaggin' this other bloke?" Gene frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Benji nodded, swallowing hard and keeping his eyes on the desk. "An' you didn't mind?"

"Of course I minded!" he retorted, glowering at the older man. "But she was happy, and she didn't end things with me, so I just thought it was a phase, or something! She didn't love him, she just- she just spoke about him like he was a way to get what she wanted, a way of making herself feel better that didn't involve anybody else... and that made her feel better."

Alex glanced at Gene, then back at Benji. "How do you mean?" She asked softly, leaning forwards slightly and crinkling her eyebrows in confusion.

Benji bit his lip, tears glistening in his eyes; he waited several moments before he spoke, and when he finally did it, his voice was small, cracked and hurt. "She wasn't perfect, alright?" he whispered finally. "She could be a manipulative cow sometimes, and she knew how to rub people up the wrong way, how to get on their good side, how to hurt you... Me, Amanda and Joe, we were the only ones she trusted – I mean, really trusted. This 'Angel' bloke... she didn't like him- not really. He made her happy because he gave her things- things I couldn't..."

"Like the money in her bank?" Alex asked. Benji nodded, otherwise ignoring the interruption as he carried on.

"She knew Joe and Amanda wouldn't help her, and once she asked me and I said no, she realized she had to play on someone's feelings, someone who had nothing to gain from her... She only had to convince him that he'd lose everything if she stuck around, and that was it..."

"So you knew she was using him?"

"No," he said, shaking his head vigorously... After a moment, he bit his lip. "At least..." he started, then gulped. "Not at first...not for ages... I just- I figured it out after a while. She'd come back smiling, but she'd have to wash afterwards before she'd touch me. She'd be on the phone and put on this voice that wasn't genuine, but that'd convince someone else it was... She'd hang up and sigh really heavily, like she was exhausted and tired... She'd talk about him, and she'd be smiling and happy, but annoyed too. She'd say she liked him, but how he did this annoying thing where he'd pretend I'd never existed, try and insist that she broke up with me..."

"So you're saying that your Missus openly told you that some other bloke was sniffing about in her skirt?" Gene asked, frowning.

"She wasn't exactly trying to be sly about it," Benji replied, grinding his teeth without meeting Gene's gaze.

"And you stuck with her?" Gene asked in bewilderment.

"She was dying!" Benji snapped.

"Still alive enough to screw with your head though, weren't she?"

"Gene, maybe-?" Alex stopped when Gene lifted a hand, watching as he leaned forward to speak to the younger man.

"'cause we've got a bloke in custody, who says just the same thing about her relationship with you as you say about his with her; you didn't understand, you wouldn't help, you wouldn't talk about it with her..." Gene shook his head slowly, meeting Benji's glistening eyes with his own. "Sorry to tell you, sonny, but if you're both tellin' us the truth, then she was playin' the pair of you like a game of poker... An' she didn't care who she hurt, as long as she got what she wanted from one of you..." He watched the teenager carefully, seeing his jaw quiver, his Adam's apple rise and fall, his hands tremble and his eyes leak...

"She loved me," Benji replied, his voice oddly strong, despite the uncertainty of his body language. "I know she did..."

"Maybe," Gene said, voice softening, "but she was still twangin' your strings like a fiddler with epilepsy." He went to leave, standing up from his chair and nodding briefly at Alex before he went to the door. A moment later, a chair had scraped against the floor and flown into the wall, and two weak, bony arms were being wrapped around Gene's neck. In the glass panel of the door, he could just make out the reflection of Benji's grief stricken, even as he grunted against the pressure on his throat and stood stock still in the boys grasp.

"She loved me!" Benji sobbed, tears streaking down his cheeks as he tightened his arms slightly, his voice venomous and pathetic all at once. Gene said nothing, his body rigid as the teenager clung to him almost desperately, painfully..."You don't understand!" Benji went on. "I knew her! She loved me! She needed me! I know she did!" Gene stood still as Benji spoke, his own breathing shallow as he answered with difficulty, lifting one hand to stop Alex interrupting after seeing her leap to her feet.

"No," Gene murmured, lifting his hands to Benji's arms and pressing his fingers between the bones at his wrists, forcing his grip to slacken enough for Gene to breathe. "You were just easy meat; just some bloke, who might give her what she wanted, if she let yer have a quick shag..." Benji's hands tightened again, but Gene spoke anyway, gulping hard and grinding out his breaths, fighting the instinct to throw the teenager off him as he tried his best to make him see sense.

"She wanted to die," he managed, his fingers still gripping tight against Benji's wrists. "And she was too bloody selfish to do it herself ..." Benji's arms trembled at Gene's throat, tightening against his hold and pressing into his oesophagus for the briefest of moments, before they fell away, and he fell back from Gene, sobbing and choking.

Gene turned, oddly overcome with a mixture of relief and worry, rubbing his neck and taking a deep, ragged breath, before the sobbing teenager fell unexpectedly forwards, his knees buckling beneath him as he rasped and spluttered in grief and despair.

Gene caught him before he hit the floor, bracing Benji firmly by the shoulders and grimacing against his own discomfort as the sobbing boy leaned helplessly into his shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto Gene's blazer. Over the top of his head, Gene saw Alex, her eyes searching for Gene's own and asking silent questions, full of worry and concern.

"Its fine," he muttered, glancing briefly at Benji as the teenager grasped at his blazer in unashamed grief. When Gene looked back at Alex, he nodded again. "Its fine," he repeated, his left arm around Benji's shoulders as his right hand reached out for Alex's, taking assurance in the warm glance of her fingertips as she squeezed back at him.

As she did so, Benji let out another gut-wrenching sob, and Gene dropped Alex's fingers from his own a moment later, bracing the boys head with his hands, glancing down at the painfully skinny frame as it shook and trembled against him, before tightening his hand as reassuringly as he could in the youngsters lank hair.

"You're gunna be fine," Gene told him firmly, though his throat was dry as he did so. "You'll be fine..."

**----**

**Another big thank you to Vintage1983 for beta-ing this chapter for me!**

**Thanks to Novindalf for the heads up on the 'perverting justice' malarkey!**

**Anyway, hope the first bit of this chapter went some way to resolving the arguments of the last update, and who knows, maybe they'll find the time to make up properly next time... :P**

**As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	37. Eyes Open

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Huge thank you to everyone, yet again, for continuing to read along :-)**

**Hopefully, this chapter will be a bit more enlightening about Rosa, as well as a little bit of a break from the angst... I'm sure you know what I mean!**

**Enjoy! **

**----**

Gene sent Benji home a while later, giving Ray and Chris the job of ferrying him, before returning himself to the interview room, where Alex was waiting impatiently, biting at her nails and grasping at the table as she did so.

The moment he entered, Alex was in his arms, one hand tangled in his hair and her face buried in his neck, her breathing heavy as, unknown to him, she inhaled lungful after lungful of his scent, squeezing him tight against her as the door swung closed behind him. Gene wrapped his arms almost hesitantly around her, cradling her gently as his fingers combed through the softly curled locks of her hair, and then down the slender column of her neck. Alex said nothing, though the slight hitch of her breathing betrayed the tears that had broken free of her eyes, and Gene instantly tightened his hold on her, lips pressing into her hair before he spoke.

"I'm fine, Alex," he murmured reassuringly, feeling the heat of his own breath against her head as he spoke. "Still breathing, see?" He lifted her face up gently, blew softly against her skin for a few moments, and then moved to press his lips tenderly to her cheek. Alex smiled up at him weakly, her hand moving from his hair to the back of his neck, fingers stroking up and down in a way that mimicked his own actions, although it was laced with a tenderness that sent shivers down Gene's spine.

"I know," she whispered, shaking her head and swiping her spare hand at the tears that slid unbidden down her cheeks. "I'm just being silly..." She moved to pull away from him, sniffing lightly and attempting to look nonchalant; Gene drew her straight back, resting his head on hers and half-smiling as she slid her arms around his back almost instantly, her fingers digging in slightly, as though afraid he might slip from her grasp if she allowed him to get too far away... After a few moments of silence, she let out a small, terrified whisper that made Gene's heart clench in his chest, the words quiet, shaken and scared. "I really thought he was-"

Gene didn't want to hear it, didn't know how to handle it himself, and a moment later he was pulling her head back towards him, drowning out her next words with a long kiss, his mouth fierce and insistent as he drew her tight against him. She kissed back desperately, lovingly, almost greedily, and her hand slipped upwards, tracing from his waist to his chest before grasping tightly at the lapels blazer, at just the same moment in which he nipped lightly at her lip.

"See?" He murmured, his mouth still touching hers as he spoke, backing her further into the room, hands skimming down her back and over her hip. "I'm fine," he kissed her again, more gently this time, soft and easy as his lips whispered against hers, before drawing back and meeting her eyes, his hand on her cheek. "Take more than a scrawny bugger to get rid of me," he promised, brushing her lips softly with his once more as his fingers teased down her cheeks.

When he drew back, Alex was looking at his neck, her trembling fingers tracing downwards, tickling against his skin as her eyes bore into him, fearful and haunted. "He gave it a good go," she whispered softly, biting her lip as her cool digits brushed a particularly tender area of skin. "You're bruising..." She said, gulping. "I really thought-!"

"That's your problem, Bols," he murmured fondly, catching her hand in his and drawing it to his lips, as much in an attempt to stop her pressing too hard against his injury as it was to distract her from her worry. His lips whispered against her knuckles as he spoke again, voice soft and gentle, teasing her lightly; "You think too much." There was silence for a few moments, and then Alex was sighing, slipping into his arms once again and pressing her ear to his chest, seeking the gentle thud of his heartbeat as she lost herself in his arms, her nose squashed against him as she inhaled his scent greedily once again.

"Are you always this brave?" She murmured after several moments of companionable silence, her voice soft and warm, even as her fingers tightened slightly on his hip.

"Dunno," Gene replied, shrugging and rubbing her back softly, "are you always this dramatic?" He smirked down at her, his arms tightening on her slender figure as he moved to press a kiss to the shell of her ear, ignoring the roll of her eyes as he went on, speaking in a lower tone now, gentle and honest as he held her close.

"I'm not being brave," he murmured softly. "I'm just glad he didn't choose to grab you instead; I'd have ripped his balls from the sack if he'd tried..." He was silent then, stroking her hair as Alex looked up at his tense features, her delicate fingers stroking the harsh lines of his frown, though she kept her quiet, simply waiting for Gene to speak as he continued to hold her against him, his face set almost stubbornly as he continued to gently run his hand through the soft ringlets of her hair...

"You lied to him," Alex whispered after an age of thoughtful silence, her fingers still caressing his face as she tentatively breached the quiet. "She did love him..."

"Did she?" Gene asked bitterly, releasing Alex almost instantly, untangling himself from her arms and sitting himself on the table, lighting up a cigarette before he spoke again. "Didn't look like love from where I was sitting, Alex."

"But you've read her diaries," Alex said, moving to settle herself next to him, her hands in her lap as she watched his face carefully for any flicker of agreement. "You know how she felt about him... You read what she said about-"

"Even if she did love 'im, Bols," he interrupted, "an' I ain't sayin' she did, mind - d'you really think that's what he needs to hear right now? 'Sorry mate, she was a two timing cow who didn't mind some other blokes dick up her fanny, but she loved you'..." He laughed, his tone bitter and resentful, mocking and coarse; Alex said nothing, staring as his face clenched in disgust. After he'd spoken, he took a deep drag, exhaling softly before he went on. "That ain't love Alex; what she did was evil - pure an' simple."

Alex nodded, her eyes looking downwards before she murmured, "I suppose so..."

Sighing, Gene glanced sidelong at her, his face set thoughtfully as he spoke, trying to explain, and fearing, as he did so, that he'd failed. "She pretended to hate him, shagged another bloke and flaunted it under his nose," he muttered, "s'far as I know, that ain't the way things are done..." he took another drag on his cigarette, and then shrugged, nudging her knee lightly with his in a vain attempt to force a smile. "You tell me, Bols," he murmured, playfully adding; "You're the psychologist."

Alex laughed, shaking her head as she nudged him back. "You're doing alright psychology wise," she assured him, smiling. "I was very impressed with the way you spoke to Benji earlier; I didn't know you had it in you..."

Gene smirked, blowing smoke gently in her face as he murmured, "I'm very impressive..." With a smirk, he added, "so, come on; give me a profile."

Alex frowned. "Of who?"

"McKellen," Gene replied, stubbing out his cigarette on the table leg and tossing the end towards the nearby bin, not really caring when it fell a few centimetres short.

Alex looked at him, apparently taken aback at his request, before her brow crinkled thoughtfully, her lips tight as she did so. After a moment, she shook her head, smiling. "Tell me what you think," she said, "and then I'll give my opinion..."

"Meaning you'll tell me to stick with drivin' and keep me gob shut fer as long as humanly possible?" He quirked an eyebrow, but Alex rolled her eyes.

"Meaning," she corrected, "I'll see if we're concluding similar things from identical evidence." She teased him lightly, tucking her ankle around his as she nudged him with her shoulder. "Come on," she said, "indulge me."

Gene hesitated, and then sighed, pulling out another cigarette. "She was a head case," he said bluntly, lighting up again smoothly. Alex sighed, shaking her head.

"That isn't a profile," she laughed, settling back on her hands and looking at him encouragingly. "Come on; tell me what you really think..." Her foot traced up the back of his calf as she smirked at him, one eyebrow raised in challenge. He wet his lips, meeting her eyes as he took another drag.

"Fine," he said eventually, exhaling loudly as his forehead creased in thought. "Bible basher, but she doesn't stick to it..." he frowned, and then said. "Reckon she didn't really believe it."

Alex blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Gene grimaced. "Bollucks, did it wrong..."

"No, I mean... why did you say that?" She looked genuinely interested, and Gene felt his eyebrows lift skywards before he answered her.

"Not being funny Bols, but she's openly religious an' shaggin' two blokes at once... Hardly Mother Theresa, is she?" He inhaled slowly, before continuing. "She thought she was gunna die young; probably crapped herself thinkin' about it a couple of times, then figured if she convinced herself there was a God, she didn't 'ave to worry about there being nothin' on the other side, so ter speak... S'long as she kept tellin' herself he was real, she didn't 'ave to be scared..." he glanced at her, seeing her look of shock and immediately misinterpreting it, instantly turning defensive. "Well you told me to tell you what I thought!"

"No, no!" Alex said, waving her hand dismissively, "I just- I had no idea you'd thought about that! You've just made a psychological profile based on-!" Sensing her obvious excitement, and trying to disguise the smug smirk that threatened to break from his lips, Gene rolled his eyes and interrupted.

"I told you some bird was fantasisin' about God, Bols, not that I was about to shag you over the table; tuck yer tongue away before we both start panting!" He couldn't resist a small smirk as she snapped her jaw shut, and a moment later he added, "So that was ok?"

Alex nodded, smiling slightly. "Gene, you could really be onto something! This could be key to understanding Rosa's state of mind before-"

Gene interrupted, eyebrows raised. "Don't mean to burst the magic bubble, Bols, but she's already dead; don't think she cares too much about how her brain got to thinkin' it'd be a good idea."

"Maybe..." Alex murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully and getting up to pace slowly. "But don't you think it's curious how she called him 'Angel' rather than Ciaran? How she had to reinforce that name reference with biblical quotations in her own diary? I mean, a diary should reflect complete honesty- people use it to get things off their chest, to think things through, to make things more understandable, palatable..."

Gene stared, his eyebrows practically hidden in his hairline as he followed her frantic pacing with his eyes, saying nothing.

"And that all makes sense if you think about it; everyone's professed that she was a strong Christian, but evidently not strong enough to follow her own religion's rules... She was committing adultery, she was having sex outside of marriage, she was lying to both parties about her feelings, and she was trying to convince herself that Ciaran was an 'Angel', which goes against the rule that you won't idolise anyone else, and-!"

"Bols," Gene interrupted, running a hand through his hair distractedly. "We've already decided she'd twanged her Royal Virgin Hymen a couple times too many; this isn't helping."

"Think, Gene!" She said, meeting his eyes for a moment. "The name on her bank statement was 'Angelo Heart', not Ciaran Merlot.... why would that be? It's not like anyone else would be looking into her accounts; she must have needed the assurance..." She bit her lip, breaking eye contact and continuing to pace as she carried on. "Angels are supposed to be spectres of beauty, of help, of protection, right?"

Gene nodded tiredly, although he wasn't sure that she really noticed his input, since she was already talking again.

"Maybe she was uncertain..." Alex continued. "So uncertain, that she needed the positive reinforcement of the name on the bank statements, of the biblical quotes to in her diary, to remind her of what she was working towards..."

"Which was?" Gene asked, frowning.

"Death and salvation," Alex explained matter-of-factly, still pacing, at a speed so quick that Gene wondered how she wasn't dizzy. "Heaven, the afterlife, freedom from her disease..." She paused, then nodded to herself and carried on. "So she was convincing herself of Ciaran's biblical status, in some ways; so she couldn't possibly call him Ciaran, because that would humanise him, and all that she believed about him was supposed to be so unearthly and perfect, that any such reference to humanity would just eradicate any sense of progress! She needed all the reinforcements she could find; even when she feared he was being too human, if she called him 'Angel' she could convince herself otherwise and-"

"Like in the diary?" Gene suggested. "'bout the shag, you mean?"

"Yes!" Alex said, "Exactly like that! She had to believe that he was this figure of perfection, even though he was demonstrating human weaknesses and temptations –sex, women, love... of course, deep down, she always knew he was just human; otherwise, how could she possibly have used Benji as leverage against him? She was just displacing his humanity with the characteristics of angels..."

"An' there was me thinking she just liked blokes in white dresses," Gene muttered, rolling his eyes and running one hand through his hair. "So she didn't believe it?"

Alex sighed, settling back on the table for a moment and shrugging weakly. "Maybe she did... Or maybe she didn't... maybe all the 'God hates me' talk was just a way of convincing herself there was one..."

Gene frowned, "Bols, that makes about as much sense as Hitler marryin' a Jew..."

"Not if you think about it," Alex murmured. "Better to think God doesn't like you than to think there's no God at all..."

"Not from where I'm sitting," he answered, watching her carefully.

"You don't want to die though, Gene," she replied, slipping her hand gently into his. "If you want to escape, even though you think there's nothing to escape to, you'll find yourself making excuses to stay... I suppose when Ciaran came back into her life, she might have started to believe God was forgiving her..."

"For what, though?" Gene frowned, brow crinkling. "She was six years old when she got diagnosed; what could she have done before she was six?"

Alex shrugged, biting her lip. "Anything... nothing... something as simple as dropping her Mum's favourite vase, but if that came just before her diagnosis, then she could have grown up convincing herself she'd deserved everything she got..."

"You'd grow out of it though," Gene said, frowning. "Wouldn't yer?"

"Depends," Alex murmured sadly, "if that was all she thought about for years, then it'd be enough to stick with her until she was a teenager..."

"So she broke her Mam's vase, and then she grew stones from her face?" Gene frowned, evidently unconvinced. "Christ, I should've died years ago if that's how it works!"

"It's not," Alex said, shaking her head. "It's just negative reinforcement; one thing precludes something negative, and that one thing becomes the bane of your life because it's the only sort of explanation you can come up with..."

"So, she was just a sad little bugger then?" Gene concluded, squeezing at her hand.

"A very messed up, sad little bugger," Alex agreed, nodding her head. "Yes..."

There was silence, in which Gene could practically see the cogs of Alex's brain whirring. He hesitated, then added, in a falsely hopeful voice, "'course, we could be wrong..." He nudged her playfully to try and break the solemn mood that was painted across her face, but saw nothing but grief and sadness in her eyes.

"And if we are," Alex murmured in reply, "then she was just an evil little girl, who broke two boys' hearts in exchange for stopping her own..."

Gene gulped, unsure what to say now that his plan had backfired, and instead moving to slip an arm around her shoulders, drawing her tightly against his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He swallowed hard, glancing down at her as she pressed her face into his shirt, her hands clinging desperately to his back.

"Alex?" He whispered, his throat dry. She said nothing, but he knew she was listening, when she shifted her head slightly, letting his fingers comb tenderly through her hair. He hesitated for only a moment, the words catching slightly in his throat before he managed it, speaking quietly in the small room; "I love you."

She stilled slightly, before pulling back slowly, looking up at him with gentle, glistening eyes, before she smiled, cupping his cheek. "You've told me that quite a lot in the last few days..."

Gene shrugged, nodding non-committally as he murmured, "well, you looked like you could do with an excuse to punch someone..." His fingers traced up the column of her neck as he looked at her, his eyes warm and teasing on her own.

Alex smiled up at him, stroking lightly at his cheek. "You're just a soppy romantic at heart, aren't you?" She laughed, smirking as he raised his eyebrows suggestively and leaned forwards to murmur in her ear.

"The only thing soppy around 'ere is your knickers," he growled, nipping at her neck before pulling back, his eyes darkening slightly. "But don't worry," he said, smirking, "I can 'ave you out of 'em in a jiffy!"

Alex laughed, jabbing him in the ribs and shaking her head in despair. "You're really disgusting," she said, but Gene could tell that her solemn mood had lifted somewhat, and seized the opportunity to keep her smiling.

"Disgusting is as disgusting does, Bolly," he muttered seriously, slipping his hand to her waist before he added, "and I 'do' you rather alot..." With a glimmer of triumph in his eyes, he pulled her face to his, drowning the giggle that rose in her throat and slipping his tongue eagerly into her mouth. She smiled against him, letting him kiss her soundly for several minutes before she reluctantly pulled away.

"Come on," she sighed, toying with the cuff of his shirt. "We still need to interview Sophia, and finish talking to Joe..." She kissed the corner of his mouth gently, and then moved to stand up, heading towards the door with a sigh.

"Later," Gene answered, pulling her straight back against him and resting his head tiredly on top of her own. Alex frowned, and was just about to speak when he murmured softly into her hair, "I need a nap, Bols; feel like I've had ten rounds with Larry Holmes, with my hands cuffed the whole time..." he kissed her lightly on the forehead, stroking her hair.

"Are you sure you can't wait?" Alex said, glancing worriedly up at him. "The Super's already got problems with us; we don't need to give him more reason to-!"

"I'm half-cut, Bolly," he sighed, running his hand distractedly through his hair. "I've had three coffees since we got here and me eyes are still droopin' like an old ladies tits... I'll end up shooting meself in the foot the rate I'm going..." He stood slowly, kissing her lightly on the cheek before adding, "I'll crash at the flat; you've still got the key, right?" Alex sighed, nodding and reaching into the pocket of her jeans for the ring of keys she always kept there.

"Don't be long," she said, stroking his cheek. Gene chuckled, tracing his mouth from her cheek to her lips before whispering softly against them with his own.

"Gimme an hour," he murmured. "Shouldn't need much more than that."

Alex nodded hesitantly, drawing his hand into hers as she headed to the door. Gene followed her lead and rose slowly to his feet, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he took her in.

"New top?" He asked, taking in the low-cut V of the cerulean blue fitted blouse she was wearing. She blinked, apparently shocked, and then smiled radiantly.

"Yes..." she said, practically beaming. "I didn't think you'd notice!"

Gene smirked, stepping forwards and slipping two hands to her waist as he tugged her against him. "I always notice when yer tits look like that," he murmured, drawing back enough that he could bend his head, his lips gentle against the curve of her breast. Alex smiled, dropping a kiss on the top of his head and tangling her fingers in his hair, before gently tugging him away.

"You'll get me into trouble if you stay down there," she laughed, pushing him in the shoulder and turning to leave. His arm snaked around her waist, drawing her right back against his chest, hands moving to cup her breasts as he chuckled huskily in her ear.

"How about now?" He asked, moving down to nip playfully at her neck. "You in trouble yet?"

"Not really..." Alex breathed, "right now, I look like a very unwilling participant... but _you_ will be in very big trouble if Harrison finds you with a hard-on."

Gene grumbled, releasing her breasts and slipping his hands back to her waist. "Your fault," he muttered grumpily, pressing a kiss to her chin. "Too willing for yer own good..." His right hand gently smoothed over the curve of her arse, lips an inch away from her skin as he sighed wistfully. "If I wasn't so tired, Bols, I'd punish you..." With a smarting smack to her behind, he pulled away, smirking as he opened the door. "Right then, Little Miss Shagworthy," he said, motioning for her to leave. "Get yer soggy knickers back to the office – I'm off." His lips descended briefly on hers, warm and inviting, tasting strongly of coffee and cigarettes, before he broke it off and stroked tenderly down her cheek with his hand. Alex smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling.

"Get to bed, Gene," she said, her voice gentle. "You can punish me later." With a swift kiss to his cheek, she left, her hips swaying perfectly as she swanned off to the main office... Gene watched her arse until it had rounded the corner, then headed out of the building and across the street.

---

Having sent Ray and Chris off to collect statements on a local burglary, and after giving them explicit instructions to remain away for at least an hour and a half, if not more, Alex settled into her chair and lethargically picked through her paperwork, attempting to be as thorough as possible, even as her mind drifted elsewhere; Rosa, Benji, Ciaran, Joe... but most of all, it seemed to slide through the open window and bounce across the street, towards the small flat above Luigi's, where Gene was probably crashed out on the old sofa, which they'd negated to remove when they transferred their belongings to their new home... She sighed, twirling the pen between her fingers and tapping it agitatedly on the desk as the minutes hand slowly dragged itself around the clock millimetre by millimetre, waiting impatiently for the door to open and Gene's unmistakeably heavy footsteps to break into the odd quiet that had descended on CID.

It took her about fifteen seconds once the hand had completed a whole circuit, for her to leap from her chair and toss her white jacket around her shoulders. "I'm off out, Shaz," she explained airily, hoping the younger girl didn't notice the impatience in her voice, or the way she was halfway out of the door before she'd finished; Shaz simply nodded, smiled, and waited until the door had closed in Alex's wake before the knowing smirk played across her lips.

---

He wasn't on the sofa, as she'd expected him to be, and after dropping her jacket over the back of the armchair, she slipped into the bedroom, treading quietly into the room and pausing in the doorway, her tooth toying at her lip as a flush of warmth spread through her body.

He'd removed his shirt and trousers, hooking them neatly over the tops of the wardrobe doors to prevent any creases, and was laid out on his side, one arm stretched in front of him, as though searching for something or someone. She shivered delightedly, watching as he slept, his breathing soft and yet grating in the quiet flat. The bed remained unmade, the mattress of pale yellow looking gaudy and unattractive, whilst the old blanket Alex had once used for cuddling up in on the sofa was pulled loosely up to his waist. With a smile, she slid her shoes from her feet, gingerly sitting before him on the mattress, before wriggling easily beneath the arm he had stretched in front of him. Almost instantly, it curved around her, tugging her closer as he slept onwards, pulling her familiarly towards his chest and allowing her head to rest, as it often did, against the firm thud of his heartbeat. Alex felt herself sigh, closing her eyes for a few brief, wonderful moments, before she moved to press a kiss to the base of his neck, her mouth gentle and warm.

"Gene..." she murmured, moving higher and revering every inch of skin with a soft, loving kiss, feeling his pulse quicken slightly beneath her lips. He stirred, moving slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake. "Gene," she repeated, nibbling gently at his jaw and stroking at his cheek with one hand. "You have to wake up..." Her whisper was warm, sweet, and welcoming, and a moment later, Gene's hold tightened again, his lips barely even opening as he let out a gentle murmur of enjoyment.

"That'll do it..." he breathed, his eyes still closed as her lips trailed gently across his cheeks, his jaw, and, finally, his mouth. The return kiss he gave her was gentle and easy, lips lazily caressing as one hand worked its way beneath her new blouse. "Mmm..." he murmured, "'e's definitely wakin' up now..."

Alex giggled, moving to draw away from him, but his arms pulled her closer, the length of his body pressed firmly into her own, and there was no mistaking the insistent pressure at her hip, nor the desire and warmth that flooded through her whole body, pounding through her veins and chasing down to her centre, pulsing and thundering as he kissed her again.

"Gene..." she murmured weakly, her breathing heavy and wanton between each brush of their lips. "Gene, we should really-"

He ignored her token protests, rolling her onto her back and easing his knee between her legs, alternately grinding it against her, and then urging her hips against his leg in turn. His lips slid softly down her neck, peppering the way with gentle nips and bites that had her gasping and murmuring, along with the more urgent moans as his knee continued to rub her teasingly and erotically through the fabric of her jeans.

"We should..." he murmured, slipping one hand to her blouse whilst the other held her hip firmly in a vice grip. "...stay here..." he popped the buttons expertly, unhindered by the lack of his other hand as he slowly, yet eagerly, revealed more of her body to him. "...and do naughty, naughty things to each other..." His lips fell to the curve of her breasts, tongue peeking out to caress the warm skin as he gently pushed the blouse from her shoulders. "...until I say 'stop'..." He eased the cup of her bra back, closing his lips sensuously around Alex's nipple as she reached for the button of her jeans, sliding the zip down, even as she whispered her protest.

"Have to talk to Joe..." she murmured, whimpering as he snapped her bra free and tossed it away from them.

"Mmm..." he murmured, easing his fingers beneath her knickers and stroking her gently, biting slightly harder on her breast as he felt her wet and willing. "We will... later... you're very wet though..." he kissed up to her neck, nuzzling and sucking as he whispered softly against her. "Don't wanna flood the place... best stay 'ere a bit..." His fingers moved slightly faster, thumb pressing briefly against her clit before he drew away, removing her jeans slowly as his mouth trailed down her stomach, teasing across her hip and down her thigh as he dropped both jeans and knickers on the floor without a care.

Alex whimpered, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging him impatiently up her body, her mouth clashing against his as she pushed the boxers from his body, abandoning all pretence of protest as her teeth and tongue entwined smoothly with his, her leg wrapping firmly around his waist as he teasingly rubbed his length against her hot, slick centre. He kept one arm tight around her back, whilst his free hand moved to cup her right breast, massaging it gently and rolling the nipple between his fingers until she was grinding her hips repeatedly up at him.

"Gene, please..." she murmured, her eyes glazed as she dragged her mouth away and stared up at him. Her hand cupped his cheek, her skin cool against his own as she stroked her fingers gently downwards. "I need you now," she whispered, leaning up to capture his lips again, pressing herself closer to him with a groan of frustration, practically sobbing when he drew away, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he nodded, trailing his hands down the curves of her hips, over her arse and down the backs of her thighs...

"Roll over, Alex," he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck as he softly directed her onto her knees, easing his lips down the spinal column as he pressed his erection firmly against her. "Love this..." he whispered, stroking her slick channel with long, teasing fingers. "You're soaked..."

His other hand skimmed over her body possessively, firmly stroking and teasing as his mouth left a trail of red marks in its wake, scattered across her shoulders and neck as the tip of his erection brushed against her. She moaned softly, the sound heady and desperate, and Gene could barely restrain the whimper that threatened to break forth from his lips as he urged himself swiftly into her, one hand on her hip, the other cupping her breast.

Alex gasped slightly, rocking her body back against his own as he thrust into her, tender and aggressive all at once, filling her up completely. She closed her eyes, panting and sighing as he bit into the gentle flesh at the base of her neck, before pushing in deep, slow and hard, teasing her easily.

"You feel incredible..." he told her, his voice husky in her ear as he continued steadily on, delighting in the feel of her tight heat, and the sound of her hitching breath as he kept thrusting, gradually increasing his pace, spearing her with his length as his fingers slid down to her centre, brushing her clit, teasing her gently as she writhed, and then-

"Stop!" She gasped, her breathing heavy as Gene stilled himself instantly, still hard inside her, even as his body froze with worry and he began fumbling to apologise for some unknown feat. Almost instantly, she brought one hand to his, stroking it softly as she turned her head towards his, her eyes fluttering closed as she pressed herself back into him, capturing his lips for a brief second before she spoke.

"Want to see you," she whispered, reaching behind her to cup his balls in one hand, teasing him softly until he was gasping and whimpering against her mouth. He withdrew from her swiftly, just as she turned around and pushed him back down to the bed, straddling his waist with her thighs as she slid back down onto him, head thrown back in delight.

"Oh God!" Gene gasped, clenching his fingers on her waist as she rotated her hips, angling them so that he was inside her as fully as possible. "Fuck!" He tried to sit up, to lift himself towards her and cover her glorious breasts with his mouth, but her hands pinned him to the bed, and, easy as it would have been to flip her over and fuck her senseless, he stayed still, staring up into her hazel eyes as she moved herself over him with deliberate, slow movements, one hand finding his, their fingers twining together as she went, whilst the other reached to cup his cheek. He stayed still, but for the gentle up-thrust of his hips, his eyes almost fluttering closed as she stroked across the soft stubble on his jaw, moving over him with an intimate gentleness that he never wanted to lose.

"I love you..." she murmured, leaning forwards, bringing both hands to the sides of Gene's face, but keeping his fingers twined tenderly with her own. His eyes burned, flickering with heated lust, but softening as she moved to brush her mouth to his, keeping her eyes open as she went. He groaned, the hand that had previously rested on her hip shifting up to cup the back of her head, tongue tangling with hers as he too kept both eyes open, locked with hers as she continued to move slowly against him. She felt him twitch within her, felt his hips urge slightly faster against her own as she brought his lip between her teeth, nipping lightly at him and watching as his eyes blazed, his hand suddenly more insistent on the back of her head, tongue swiping passionately against hers before she dragged her mouth away, lifting herself up and letting his hand slip from her hair.

The fingers wrapped around her own tightened, and he drew her hand to his lips, not once breaking eye contact as he pressed a soft kiss to her palm, and then her wrist. As he drew away from her wrist, his lips moved, and she watched as he mouthed those same three words back at her, totally inaudible, and yet somehow all the more poignant for being so. She stilled above him, her heart racing and head spinning with emotion, before suddenly he leaned upwards, taking her left breast in his mouth and letting out a soft groan as she tangled her hand in his soft blonde hair, holding his head against her, urging him on whilst his arms wrapped around her, guiding her over him easily...

Alex leaned into his touch, her lips brushing Gene's ear as she rocked against him and repeated her previous statement; "I love you..." She reached between them, stroking herself gently as Gene began to sweat, as his arms tightened and his mouth bit hard against her breast; "I love you so much..."

He grunted in agreement, one hand tracing down to join hers, fingers tangling together as they both worked her clit, sending her whole body rigid as the orgasm built up, a large block in her stomach that exploded into dust at the same moment that Gene's back arched, as he thrust once, twice, three times, before he released with a loud groan... Alex's head flew back, a loud, guttural moan of pleasure torn from her lips as she bucked against him, white stars bursting before her eyes as Gene's teeth closed once again on her nipple, heightening the sensation as her fingers dug into his back, her breath heavy and gasping as he drew back from her chest, kissing her lightly, almost chastely, barely brushing her lips before resting his head against her own.

His eyes met hers in the dim light of the room, and she saw them softening and burning in one simultaneous moment, just before his arms tightened around her, drawing her into his chest as he lay them both back down on the bare mattress.

Her hand tangled in his hair, combing lightly through the soft locks, Alex pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, watching as his eyes fluttered closed at her touch. Wistfully and regretfully, she let out a soft sigh. "We need to go back, Gene," she murmured, resting her forehead lightly against his own, half-smiling as he let out a dull grunt of acknowledgement. His hand slid down her back, resting just above her arse before he spoke, his voice rough and grating with exhaustion.

"Can't," he muttered, shuffling himself slightly closer and turning his face towards hers. "I've been fucked into an early grave, by some gorgeous bint who's out of her very over-sized mind..." He kissed her affectionately, silencing her gasp of protest. He waited a few seconds. "Ten minutes..." he murmured. "An' don't bloody complain, either; if you hadn't come in 'ere an' started rubbing up against me particulars, we'd 'ave been there by now!"

---

**Huge mega 'thank you!' to Vintage1983 for beta-ing once again, and filling me in with the 'Larry Holmes' info rather than Mike Tyson!**

**Hope the smut broke up the angstiness for you, but it's more plot next chapter!**

**Let me know what you thought of it!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	38. Forgotten Socks, Forgotten Gloves

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**No smut... just plot... and a teensy bit of fluffiness at the start... Don't get excited.**

**Enjoy!**

**----**

It was, in actuality, at least twenty minutes before Gene allowed her to roll away from him, and he voiced his annoyance by repeatedly mumbling and grumbling to himself whilst Alex gathered her clothes from the floor.

Muttering incoherently, it took him a few moments to realize that, whilst she was jiggling around practically naked, unknowingly sending the blood straight back to his groin, she was also still wearing her socks. He thought back, trying to remember if she'd had them on whilst she was in bed, and tilting his head slightly to the side to admire the view. He took a few seconds to take in the stripy pink and yellow items, his eyes trailing slowly up her long legs and resting on her arse before he spoke, voice full of teasing and amusement. "Did you just shag me with yer socks on?" He laughed, smirking to himself as she glanced quickly down at her feet, then back at him with a slightly confused frown.

"I must've forgotten..." she said, blushing as his eyes drifted appreciatively over her body. Pulling her knickers on quickly, she added, "come on, get out of bed; we've got work to do." She pulled her jeans on, and then found her bra, raising an eyebrow at him when he simply lay there, propped up on his elbow, with the blanket tangled around his ankle, body bare to her eyes, and a lazy smile on his face. "Gene, I'm serious now," she said, averting her eyes as she picked her blouse up from the floor. "We're meant to be-!"

"I know, Bolly," he murmured, nodding slowly as she dragged her top back on, and shifting slightly on the bed. "I'm just enjoying the view..." He looked at her thoughtfully, then added, "Have I told you recently how nice yer tits are?"

Alex sighed, smiling despite herself as she paused, meeting his eyes easily. "Yes, Gene; you have," she assured him. "Several times in fact- but it doesn't change the fact that we're meant to be at work, and you're lying their imagining how you'd like to shag me next."

Gene chuckled, slipping from the bed and reaching for his boxers as she finished buttoning up her blouse. "You're pretty sure of yerself," he informed her, smirking when she tossed his trousers and shirt in his direction, her eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"You thinking of someone else?" She asked, slipping her shoes back on as she spoke.

"No," Gene smirked in reply, "just not thinkin' about shaggin' you..." He wasn't, either - at least not directly, although getting off between her tits was probably classed as some sort of shag if you thought about it for too long...

Alex looked at him with disbelief on her features as his eyes rested lingeringly on her breasts, before collecting his shoes, socks and tie from their place next to the wall, and chucking them at his feet with a smirk. He pulled his clothes on obediently, chuckling under her scrutiny until he'd replaced each item on his body and was stood, clothed and booted, right next to her.

"See?" He muttered, holding his arms out to her. "I'm a good boy; got dressed all by myself, an' I didn't even try to drag you back fer a quickie!" Smirking, he slipped his arms around her and nipped at her ear. "Proud of me?" He wheedled, kissing her gently on the neck. She rolled her eyes, and pushed him lightly in the chest.

"Very," she said sarcastically. "Now let's hurry back, or getting dressed won't be the only thing you'll be doing by yourself next time!" With a meaningful look downwards, she turned to leave the room, missing Gene's surprised laugh, and not seeing his arm dash out to wrap around her waist.

"Do we have to go?" He sighed, pouting against her neck and squeezing her tight against him. He already knew the answer, of course, but he was willing to put off the inevitable for as long as possible. Alex's hand found his as she nodded reluctantly, turning her face to kiss his cheek softly.

"The sooner we do, the sooner it's over..." She felt him nod at her words, felt his arms tighten even more around her waist before his lips moved to her ear, his whisper soft and intimate.

"I know," he murmured reluctantly, kissing the shell of her ear gently. "Doesn't mean I wouldn' shag you again if I could, though."

---

Once back at CID, they went to Gene's office, briefly filing a report on Benji's interview, before attempting, unsuccessfully, to decide who to interview first; the make-believe fantasy that, after having shagged her silly, she'd comply to his own wishes, crumbled into ashes almost the moment Gene opened to his mouth.

"If we don't talk to Sophia soon," he said, "we're gunna 'ave to let 'er go; can't keep her here much longer without an interview, Bolly, and I'd sooner have to collect Ellison again than that conniving little cow!"

"He's been here too long already," Alex pointed out, shaking her head slightly. "We haven't got enough to keep him here, and sitting in a cell can't be doing him any good at all! He must be terrified, Gene! He's-!"

"Don't say that he's orspasmic, or ortasmic, or whatever the hell he is!" Gene interjected quickly. "He ruddy lied to us, an' jus' because he's a bit loopy doesn't mean I 'ave to give 'im priority!"

"It's not orspasmic - it's autistic!" Alex snapped back. "And the point is, unless Joe confirms what Ciaran said, there'll be no point in interviewing Sophia anyway because-!"

"Then why the bloody hell did you let me pull her in?" Gene retorted, glowering slightly. "You were there when I got Ray to get her, so why didn't you-?"

"Because I thought we were going to interview Joe yesterday!" Alex said, stamping her foot slightly. "How was I to know you were going to bugger off to the station and leave me at home with-?"

Gene interrupted her, his eyes sparking up in anger. "Don't start on me about that, Alex!" He growled, his voice calmer than he felt, though equally as venomous in spite of it. "You were the one screwin' over the way we handled the case, not me! I am not taking your shit for that one!"

"You could've interviewed him!" She snapped.

He slammed a fist down on the table, his eyes narrow and full of anger as he answered. "I already explained why I didn't, Alex, and either way, I'd have interviewed her first! Stop being so fucking argumentative, and do something useful! I'm interviewing her for being an accomplice, and you can either join in, or go and make me some bloody tea!"

Alex stopped short, staring at him. "Make you tea?" She said with disgust. "I'm not a little house maid, Gene, so-!"

"Oh for God's sake, Bolly!" He snapped, kicking out at the nearest filing cabinet. "All I'm saying is, either be a copper, or be a bird, but don't try and do both!"

She stared at him. Gene gulped, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he realized he'd said the wrong thing. He started to fumble for an apology, to tell her he didn't mean it, but a moment later she'd walked up to him, visibly seething as she jabbed him hard in the chest, hissing her retort with venom that he knew, even through his anger, that he deserved.

"You pig-headed, arrogant, _bastard_!" She sniped. "You sexist, _misogynistic_, bitter, dogmatic, obstinate, _unfair_, chauvinistic, _xenophobe_!" She hit him in the chest hard, but not enough that it would hurt him; the annoyance that it hadn't done so only served to anger her even further, and almost instantly she'd drawn her hand back, fist clenched.

Gene caught it before she managed to connect it with his face, jerking her into his chest against all of her protest and letting out a harsh grunt as she repeatedly hammered her fists into his shoulders. "Alex, look, please, I-!"

"Let go!" She snapped, hitting him again. When he didn't, she slammed her heel down onto his foot, watching Gene's face contort with pain as his hands loosened on her wrists. She jerked herself free, body shaking angrily as she made for the door; Gene somehow got there first, despite his obvious limp, and she glowered at him, her fists still clenched. "Get out of the way, Gene," she hissed angrily, moving to walk around him. He stood firm, arms stretched to the sides and catching her when she tried to push past.

"Alex, I'm sorry," he said, attempting sincerity, although he wasn't sure she believed him; the look on her face reminded him of an evil feminist about to perform a castration, and he had no idea how to take the comment back.

"Move, Gene," she snapped. "I'd hate to litter your archaic, caveman style working place with a single drop of oestrogen! God forbid somebody actually gives a damn what happens to the people in our cells!"

Gene shook his head apologetically, trying to draw her into his arms, but received only a harsh shove in the chest for his efforts. With a sigh, he released her, though he kept his body placed firmly between her and the door as he spoke. "Alex, you know I didn't mean it!" He cracked, looking at her imploringly, though his voice was tinged with anger. "Why do you have to question every bloody thing I say? We'll interview him- you know we will! But right now, it's her that's a possible accomplice, so please just let me do my job and-!"

"I'm your DI Gene!" She snapped, shoving him once again in the chest.. "I'm part of your bloody job! Just because I'm a bird doesn't mean that I'm nothing to do with-!"

"I know!" Gene replied, voice harsher and louder than he intended. He softened slightly, stepping forward to place his hands tentatively on her shoulders, "I know..." She shrugged him off, but he took comfort in the fact that she didn't try to punch or slap him away this time, and his hands hovered briefly at her shoulders, before he dropped them to his sides.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he murmured, stepping even closer, though he didn't break the touch barrier now, watching her face as he spoke. "I didn't mean it," he muttered. "You know I didn't mean it, just- just sometimes you're so bloody stubborn..." He met her eyes, his gaze soft. "Just trust me, Bolly; you aren't the only one with a brain, y'know - I'm a DCI for a reason! An' you know as well as I do that she's too smart to sit there much longer without thinkin' her way out of it - and that's if she hasn't already come up with some cock an' bull story as to where she was that night..." He reached for Alex's cheek then, and this time, to his immense relief, she didn't pull away. With gentle fingers, he tipped her chin up, meeting her eyes sincerely as he moved slightly closer.

"Sorry," he murmured, "you can be a bird an' a copper; I know that..." He tentatively leaned forwards, lips brushing against hers for a moment. He sighed with relief as she returned his kiss, gentle and soft, if only for a few moments, before she drew away and shook her head.

"I'm not the only one who's stubborn, Gene," she murmured, meeting his eyes. She saw him clench his jaw slightly, and then nod in agreement.

"I know, Alex," he answered, pulling her into his arms. "But at least I don't quote the Oxford English dictionary when I want to insult yer," he shook his head in quiet disbelief. "Don't think I understood any o' that babble 'cept the 'bitter' and 'unfair' bit..." Hand in her hair, he waited a few moments before adding, "I'll take all that misophobic, dogmanistic bollucks as compliments, shall I?"

She rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head and pushing him gently off her. "No, Gene," she said, "and I won't pretend they were anything of the sort - you can't have expected me to take that lying down, surely?"

He sighed, shaking his head bleakly. "Unfortunately not," he muttered, glancing away and pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

"I am sorry, Alex," he said after a moment. "But I'm still the superior officer; just because I'm shag-" he paused, then quickly changed tact, correcting himself swiftly; Alex let it fall, pretending that she hadn't noticed. "Just because we're together," he corrected, "doesn't mean I'm gunna roll over on my back like some obedient, brainless mutt and let you scratch my belly 'til I do what you want."

Alex was silent for a while, but after several moments, she nodded, speaking in a soft, quiet voice as she whispered; "I know..."

He tentatively drew her back into his arms, nuzzling his nose against her hair for a few moments before he spoke again, his voice gently teasing in her ear. "Wasn't jokin' about that cuppa, though," ..." he murmured, tightening his hold and chuckling into her neck when she stiffened slightly against him. "Only if yer feeling generous, that is..."He joked lightly; he could practically feel her rolling her eyes at him then, but didn't bother to turn and check as his lips found the sensitive skin at the base of her ear, working gently and sweetly as his hand tangled in her hair. Alex sighed, nudging him lightly as she drew away, shaking her head almost regrettably the whole while, a small smile tugging at her lips. Seeing her relent, Gene smirked, pushing her towards the door and holding it open for her.

"Good girl, Soggy-knickers," he teased warmly, grinning. "Hot an' sweet, if you will... not that I need to tell you; y'know how I like it by now!" He tipped her a wink, pushing her from the room and chuckling at her surprised laughter.

"And what exactly are you insinuating, Mr Hunt?" She asked, pushing out her lower lip in a slight pout. Gene grinned, stepping out into the main office with her and smiling covertly to himself as the rest of the teams heads turned towards them, barely masking their clear surprise at the sudden resolution from the previous ranting and roaring.

"That I'd like three sugars with that?" Gene answered her innocently, closing the door behind him and smirking when Alex raised a disbelieving eyebrow in his direction.

"And where exactly do my knickers come into it?" Alex enquired sweetly, smiling up at him. He chuckled, sparing a glance in Ray's direction, seeing the look of shock on his face, before leaning down to murmur in Alex's ear, his voice low and gruff in her ear.

"Well, DI Drake... I'm sorry to say that they don't..." He grinned, and then added, voice a gentle growl. "Whip 'em off- liven the place up a bit!" He ducked away from her light slap, smirking when he saw Ray's surprised reaction to Alex's statement, and glowering swiftly when he saw the DS's eyes travel up over her jean-clad legs. He moved towards the door, grinning back at Alex as he went. "Tea, Drake," he called over his shoulder. "That's an order!"

"And the knickers?" Alex called after him, grinning as both Ray and Chris stared at her open mouthed, whilst Shaz sat quiet, unsuccessfully attempting to hide a smile behind her hand.

Gene looked at her, half surprised, half amused, before he shrugged, opening the door of the office as his hand flew almost embarrassedly to his hair. He ruffled the soft blonde locks slightly, a small grin playing across his lips as he saw the challenging expression written across Alex's face. Smiling to himself, he spoke. "You know I don't mind either way..." His eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, watching her look of surprise before he smirked at her. "Interview room, Bols," he told her. "Ten minutes."

Gene turned to leave, and, seeing Ray staring at Alex in what was a worrying combination of both lust and fear, he picked up a nearby pencil and tossed it firmly at the DS's head; he thought he heard Alex laugh when it caught in his perm, just as Ray rubbed his head in bewildered surprise.

"Oi, you useless tosser," Gene snapped swiftly, "put yer tongue back behind yer teeth! Now! And do some bloody work, else the new bird gets the photos!"

Ray looked confused. "What photos?"

With a grin, Gene replied, "Sam's stag do; nineteen seventy five, tied to a lamppost with yer y-fronts pulled up to yer teeth!" After waiting a few seconds to savour the unmistakeable draining of colour from Ray's cheeks, he added, "Merlot's flat; now! An' if there's nothin' there, do McKellen's house an' all!"

He left quickly, shutting the door behind him and heading down the corridor towards the cells.

---

If he'd been expecting Sophia to come quietly, he was disappointed, as five minutes later he pushed her kicking and shrieking into the interview room, rolling his eyes as she spat numerous insults in his direction and struggled against her handcuffs.

"If you were any sort of bloke at all," she snapped at him as he pushed her into the chair, her eyes angry, "you'd take these bloody handcuffs off me and get me a drink!"

Gene chuckled, cuffing her hands to the back of the chair before speaking calmly. "An' if you were any sort of lady at all, you'd keep yer gob shut an' cook us a nice Victoria sponge..." He patted her lightly and sarcastically on the shoulder, before moving to the seat opposite, raising one eyebrow in challenge. "And since the likelihood of that's right up there with me gettin' a blowjob from Brit Ekland, I'd say we can screw the formalities of 'ladies an' gents', an' get right down to the nitty-gritty 'bout how you helped yer little brother dispose of evidence in a murder investigation; how about that?"

Having not heard the door open a few seconds previously, Gene was more than a little bewildered when a familiar hand placed a steaming mug of tea in front of him, and he had to bite back a slight grimace as he turned to look at her; Alex was, thankfully, smirking, her eyebrows raised in silent query, and he managed a schoolboy grin in her direction, shrugging his shoulders lightly as if to explain himself, before Sophia spat promptly in his face. He ground his jaw briefly, and then turned his head back towards her, glowering darkly through narrowed eyes. "That'll be a 'no' then, will it?" He ground out, his teeth clenched.

"Piss off!" She hissed, visibly seething.

Gene raised his eyebrows. "Not very ladylike at all," he noted, looking over at Alex with a pointed expression. "Lady Bols?"

"I want a solicitor!" Sophia said quickly, before Alex could interject.

"Not much point in one o' them, love!" Gene retorted. "Cost you two hundred quid just for him to sit there sayin' no comment; better just to answer our questions an' be done with it."

"Well that's exactly what you're gunna say isn't it you lardy arse!" She snapped. Gene rolled his eyes, settling back in her chair.

"Course it is love," he leant forwards on his elbows and muttered, "He can't fix evidence for yer though. It's all printed up- reports, tapes, fingerprints, DNA... and once we've got into yer flat, I'm sure there'll be somethin' else to throw into the mix..." He watched as her face drained slightly of colour, although she retained a pink flush of unmistakeable anger, and he was vaguely impressed that she didn't crack immediately.

"I haven't been there for months," she said flatly, although Gene noticed the way her hands twitched, and how she gulped slightly louder than normal; from the way Alex settled herself in her chair, he knew she'd noticed it, too.

"Good to know," Gene nodded, "we'll be searching McKellen's house as well though, just to be sure..." She shrugged, less obviously shaken now, and Alex's hand on his thigh warned him to be quiet whilst she asked her questions. With a reluctant sigh, he lit up, watching with amusement as Sophia's eyes followed the glowing path of his cigarette with unmistakeable longing.

"What was your relationship with Jeremy McKellen?" Alex asked calmly, almost rationally; Gene wanted to roll his eyes and snort with derision – he didn't.

Sophia, however, did it for him, smiling sarcastically as she answered. "I was shaggin' him; he had a big dick, and he knew where to put it..." She looked directly at Gene's face as she acidly added, "blokes like that are pretty hard to come by." She turned her gaze back to Alex; "wouldn't you agree, Inspector?"

"Well ain't you just the picture of a well mannered little girl," Gene drawled sardonically. "With talk like that, I'm bettin' he wasn't the only one with his kecks around his ankles, was he?"

Alex kicked him slightly under the table, and, having glared at her slightly, he settled back, taking a deep drag on his cigarette as Sophia retorted swiftly. "You were pretty close to droppin' them in the pub yourself; I'd go so far as to say you wouldn't have minded a go." She smiled sweetly, though her narrowed eyes contradicted it, and he could feel the venomous glint as it reverberated across the table. He saw Alex's eyebrows rise slightly as she looked at him, and he rolled his eyes, smoking smoothly on as he answered her.

"They just about stayed around me hips until I got home, if memory serves correctly..." he glanced smugly at Alex, who simultaneously glowered and flushed, causing him to chuckle softly under his breath before he spoke again. "And as far as a punt goes, love, even coppers 'ave got standards."

"Not exactly high, are they?" She asked, glancing at Alex with evident disgust. "I'd say she was punching above her weight, but then, looking at you, I suppose it's fairly equal..."

The anger roiled up immediately, and he knew instantly that if she was a bloke, he'd have punched her. Punched her, and then strung her up from the ceiling with cheese wire and coat hangers... As it was, only Alex's hand on his leg stopped him kicking the table out of the way and yelling blue murder at her. With his own hand clenched on his other thigh, he resolved to let Alex do the talking, and swiftly finished his cigarette, stubbing it out on the table leg before lighting up yet another so that he had something to occupy both his hands and his mouth.

"This isn't going to get us anywhere," Alex said rationally, glancing from one to the other of them. "We have to ask you a few questions, and it would really be better for everyone involved if you answered them honestly; if you insist on having a solicitor present, we'll find you one, but the sooner we get this done with, the sooner you can go home."

Gene made a noise of disagreement at the back of his throat which, thankfully, went ignored as Alex leant forwards on the desk. "We have reason to suspect that you may have been involved with Rosa McKellen's murder; we'd just like to ask-"

"No comment," Sophia interrupted, smiling falsely. Gene clenched his fist slightly tighter on his thigh, waiting for Alex to carry on. Just as she opened her mouth, there was a knock at the door, and she sighed in frustration as Viv stepped in, glancing worriedly at Gene before he spoke.

"Guv – there's a phone call for you."

"Tell 'em to ring back," he replied quickly. "I'm kind of busy interrogating a scummy little shit-bag with a pole shoved up 'er skirt at the moment!"

"It's DS Carling, Guv," Viv said, his brow crinkling. "He says it's urgent..." Gene glanced at Alex, then at Sophia, before standing up swiftly and nodding at Viv.

"You stay 'ere – make sure Her Royal Highness over there keeps her arse to the seat!" He nodded swiftly in Sophia's direction, briefly brushing his fingers across Alex's shoulders, before he left, hearing Viv's sigh of assent just as the door swung shut.

---

"Carling you useless sod, I'm interviewing a suspect!" Gene barked down the phone, angrily pressing it to his ear as Chris muttered something unintelligible at the other end.

"We got the gloves, Guv," Ray said, his voice quiet, as though not wanting to be overheard.

"The leathers?" Gene asked, frowning. "Thought Ciaran had 'em?"

"Nah, the yellow ones – kitchen gloves – her ones... they've got blood on 'em... Think it's blood, anyway- we bagged it up."

"Good stuff!" Gene answered, then frowned slightly. "Where were they?"

"Shoved in the back of the kitchen cupboard, along with everything else," Ray answered with distaste. "Bloody mess – didn't think 'bout it yesterday, but reckon she ain't been 'ere for months, Guv; this whole place is crawling wi' muck!"

"Everything else?" Gene asked, ignoring the latter comment as he glanced down the corridor, waiting until the pacing plod had hurried past before he said, "what's that mean?"

"The blanket, the pillow, the shirt, the water bottle, the pill bottle, a pink handbag... All of it, Guv, just like he said..." He heard Rays gulp before he added, "it's all covered in blood. Still in the bin bag; don't reckon she ever meant to burn it; yer don't leave that sort of shit around by accident..."

"How'd she forget about the gloves though?" Gene mused thoughtfully. After a second, he nodded to himself, running a hand through his hair. "Get it all down to forensics; tell Bronson I want it done by five an' that I don't care what else he's doing."

"Yes Guv," Ray murmured, his voice soft.

"An' tell Chris not to shove his poxy little fingers in any o' it!"

The DS answered quickly, his voice amused, "Sure, Guv... Anything else?"

"Just get all that buggering evidence down to forensics, sharpish," Gene sighed wearily, running a hand loosely through his hair. "With any luck, we can shove 'em both off to court by tomorrow night an' be done wi' the bastards."

----

He pulled Alex from the interview room a few minutes later, drawing her well down the corridor before he said anything. She looked at him with inquisitive eyes, but knew better than to ask anything until he decided to disclose it; she would only end up being snapped at, and from the lines of his face and the set of the jaw, she could tell that, whatever the reason for leaving Viv alone with the sour-faced Sophia Merlot, it was an important one.

"Ray found everything," he told her eventually, smoking deeply and looking wholly as though he intended to inhale fifteen gas canisters of nicotine by the end of the day. His eyes were carefully fixated on the door to the interview room, and he barely glanced at her once as she answered him.

"Everything?" She asked, frowning. "What do you mean, everything?" Alex stared, confused, her eyebrows crinkling.

"I mean everything - everything Ciaran thought she was gunna burn; the pillow, the blanket, the top, the bottle, the bag... _Everything_, Bolly; even her own bloody gloves!" He took another deep drag, his breath shaky and his jaw clenched. "Ray's sending it to forensics now, but something don't smell right, Alex; you don't leave murder evidence lyin' in yer kitchen cupboard!"

Alex bit her lip, her eyes flitting between Gene and the interview room. "You might if you're not the one who'll get found out," she pointed out.

"Yeah, that's what I thought at first," he muttered, shaking his head. "But the gloves? If she was pissed at her brother, maybe all the other bollucks would make sense, Bolly, but you don't leave the gloves you wore to bloody help out right along with it!"

"Well, I admit that if she was clever enough to fish out the fibres beneath the nails, she'd be unlikely to be stupid enough to leave her gloves in the cupboard, but-"

"I'd say stickin' any evidence in the cupboard's pretty stupid," Gene muttered, stubbing his cigarette end out on the wall and reaching for another. "Especially in yer own home; it'd be like stickin' a dead body in yer shower an' claimin' yer didn't know it was bloody there when yer hopped in fer a scrub!"

Alex rolled her eyes, watching as he lit up again before she spoke. "Given that Ray found her at Jeremy McKellen's flat, it seems unlikely she's been sticking around and calling it 'home'." She waggled her fingers at him; despite his frustration with the case, he couldn't help glowering in her direction as she carried on talking. "Not to mention the fact that Ciaran hadn't been there either... If she didn't think he was going back, and she really wanted to put him in the frame, where better than the place put down as his permanent address? If ever the investigation turned to him, they'd search the flat, and then-"

"And the gloves?" Gene interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "While she was busy tryin' to fuck up her brother's life, they just slipped 'er mind did they? She just forgot about 'em while she was makin' erself a cuppa? It's bloody murder evidence, Bolly; she's a tart and a right royal bitch, but she ain't thick enough to leave a ruddy great pair of incriminating, blood covered marigolds next ter the breakfast cereals an' not bloody know about it!" He kept smoking, a thick fog of dirty air surrounding him, making it difficult for Alex to breathe without tasting the nicotine at the back of her mouth. Waving her hand in a vain attempt to clear the muggy air in front of her face, she spoke with difficulty, clearing her throat several times in the process.

"I'm not suggesting that she 'forgot they existed'!" Alex protested, waggling her fingers again; Gene gave no reaction this time, and for a fleeting second she wondered if his eyes could even permeate the cloud of filthy air around him enough to make her actions clear, but a moment later, the thought slipped away. "But she might not know they were there!"

Gene looked at her in bewilderment. "It's her frigging _kitchen cupboard_, Alex! If I stuck a load of blood-smeared shirts in ours, do you not think you'd notice? 'cause if you stick yer bloody knickers in there it'll put me right off me blinkin' sandwiches, I'll tell you that!"

"Oh for God's sake, Gene!" She snapped exasperatedly, waving her hand around as if for emphasis. "We are not talking about my period pants! We've already established that she probably wasn't even there! She might have put the other stuff there straight away, thought she'd disposed of the gloves and then not known that someone else put them back! All I'm suggesting is that maybe it's not so clear cut as-!"

"And _I'm _suggesting that she'd have to be bloody Louis Braille 'imself to miss a sack of stinking, bloody, dirty _murder evidence_!" Their voices were charged now, angry, but deliberately hushed in the corridor, echoing around them slightly as Alex stood up to him, meeting his eyes squarely as she jabbed him viciously in the chest.

"Did you listen to a word I just said?" She snapped angrily, glowering up at him as he continued to ignore her suggestions. "Because if you did, instead of shouting about like some pre-historic ape with an attitude complex, you'd have heard me say she probably wasn't _at _the bloody flat to find them! It's not exactly coincidental that Ray and Chris found her holed up in Jeremy's house – maybe they were living together and she never moved out!" She pushed Gene again, sharply, moving to pull away, but his arms shot out of nowhere, hands instantly cupping her elbows as he jerked her into his chest, his cigarette falling to the floor as he pushed his face to within an inch of her own.

"I might be a little old fashioned Alex, but I can sniff a rat a mile off - if she's been at McKellen's since before Rosa died, then where the bloody hell was she when Amanda topped him? 'cause where I come from you don't wait around in the house while yer fella shags his ex-Missus!" His voice was practically a growl, angry and challenging as she stared stubbornly up at him, refusing to blink as she answered.

"It wasn't her," she said decisively, ignoring his question.

"I bet you my left bolluck she's involved!" Gene replied, glowering down at her. "Maybe the gloves weren't her, but she knew something about it, or I'm as bent as Elton John with a knotted poker shoved up his arse!"

"Well there's definitely something stuck up there!" Alex hissed, shrugging him off and stepping firmly away. Gene glared for several moments, before grinding his teeth and replying.

"Put her back in the cells," he muttered, stomping out the cigarette that had fallen to the floor, and cringing visibly when he realized he was down to his very last one. "We've got work to do."

Alex looked up at him in surprise. "We're talking to Joe?" She asked, her stern expression faltering slightly.

"No," he retorted swiftly. "We're talking to Bronson."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course we are," she drawled. "Because listening to anything that Alex has to say would be tantamount to female domination, and letting-!"

"We're talking to Bronson," Gene interrupted swiftly, his voice angry, "because he's a bloody forensic whiz and he'll be able to tell us if the buggering fingerprints on all that shit match with any of the stuff we've got on file! Then you can talk to the bloody nutcase all you want, for all the good it'll do you! He's a useless tosser, an' all he'll do is tell yer the alphabetical list of fishing gear and sob about how sore his arse is from all that shit-pokin' he's been 'aving!" He lit up the final cigarette, turning on his heel and heading back towards the main office without a backward glance. Alex made a loud noise of frustration, stamping her foot on the floor until Gene had disappeared from sight, before turning back to the interview room and slamming the door in anger.

"Put her back in the cells, Viv," she snapped, more fiercely than she intended.

He blinked, nodded, and obeyed; she vaguely considered apologising, but by the time she had calmed herself enough, he'd man-handled Sophia from the room, and the door had closed in his wake.

-----

**So, following the smut from last chapter, I think someone hit the angst button, so they started yelling and I couldn't stop them! You know what they're like – they're just both so stubborn :P**

**Big thank you to Feline for beta-ing this one, but also just a reinforced thank you to Vintage for standing in for the last few updates, too :-)**

**Not sure how long the next update will be – got an update for Enduring Hope waiting in the wings so will be sometime after that. **

**Thank you as ever for all of your feedback, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	39. Pushing The Senses

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Here is the next chapter- sorry for the delay! Bit of plot and erm... fun?**

**Enjoy ;)**

**----**

"Bastard!"

Gene's shout of anger could be heard from the main office, and Alex's head snapped up almost immediately, just in time to see him slam the phone down and viciously kick out at the nearby filing cabinet. She half wanted to go in and ask what was wrong, to smooth out the lines of anger and rage from his face, but the other half of her was far too stubborn to acknowledge him, and she wasn't really surprised when that particular half won out; she was still reasonably pissed off with his earlier remarks, and so the sympathetic side of her personality seemed to wane slightly as her anger roiled quietly in her stomach.

Although two hours had passed since the last argument, with Gene repeating at regular intervals this ritual of shouting and slamming, Alex's anger and annoyance hadn't yet stemmed enough for her to consider the possibility of forgiveness. Whilst, in hindsight, Gene's views on the case had made perfect sense, she had still been slightly rankled from the morning's argument in the office, and their latest disagreement had given her no inclination to step aside and offer rational conversation. She suspected too that, whilst Gene might well want someone to yell at, it would be better for him to work through his aggression in his own time.

So, turning to the report on the desk before her, she worked briskly, ignoring the noises of aggravation coming from Gene's office, and wishing longingly for an iPod and earphones to block out the regular roars of anger.

With a sigh, she wrote swiftly, working through another stack of paperwork and statements for a recent burglary, and ignoring the loud grumbles and frustrated shouts as Gene yelled down the telephone.

---

She managed another hour, but, having finished the paperwork, and after having set Shaz up with the job of sorting through statements, she knew it was well past time for her to speak with him. Ray and Chris had arrived back early in the afternoon, and were now half-heartedly interviewing burglary suspects down the hall, with their faces the picture of drudgery. The lack of her own involvement was beginning to irritate her more than she truly wanted to admit, and much as it pained her, the only way to get back into it was to be returned to Gene's good books. And so, with a deep breath, she pushed into his office, opening the door to find him agitatedly throwing darts, impatiently glancing at the phone, and then, eventually, turning his gaze towards her; the look in his eyes was not welcoming, and she felt the pit of anger in her stomach beginning to expand, the heated flash of annoyance in his eyes making her fists clench and jaw tighten.

"Don't you think it's time to do something useful, instead of flouncing around in here like an argumentative teenager?" Her tone was more chilled and cool than she'd been expecting, and she saw his eyes flash with further frustration as he launched his last dart towards the board, the force of the throw so intense that it buried a centimetre and a half of the nib into the cushioned surface. Alex rolled her eyes, turning her eyes back to Gene as he stalked towards her and pushed the still ajar door closed, his gaze narrowed.

"I'll have you know, Drake, that while you've been fannying around with the paperwork, I've been on the phone to Bronson, and the Super, and the bloody Queen of England, so why don't you give me a break?"

"Really?" Alex asked, frowning, surprised out of her anger at the look of sincerity in his eyes.

His face cracked, and he smirked triumphantly. "No, but I could've done, and that's the point; I'm in charge, Alex, and what I do or don't do in my office is none of your concern!"

"It is when you're behaving like a chauvinistic pig," Alex pointed out, crossing her arms. "Has it occurred to you that we could be interviewing Ellison at this point, instead of sitting around fiddling with pens and 'fannying around with paperwork' as you so politely put it?"

"Yes, actually!" Gene snapped, poking her firmly in the shoulder. "Has it occurred to you, that whatever loony-toony, pish-posh bollucks that poofter has wrong with him, he's still a fucking lead in a murder investigation!?" His voice was harsh, cutting through the air like a whip, and Alex glowered at him, fiercely shoving his hand away from her shoulder.

"You're just trying to incriminate him because he lied, Gene, and I won't-!"

"Wrong, Alex!" Gene retorted. "I've never nailed anyone who I didn't think bloody deserved it, and if you used your supposed brain, instead of spouting off like a garden hose with a hole in its pipes, you'd realize that he's the one other person who could potentially have shoved his grubby little paws all over that shit! So instead of screwing at me, why you don't just shut up and wait for the phone to ring so we know who the bloody hell touched it all!"

"What need could he possibly have to put it all there?" She snapped back without thinking, and she knew how ridiculously naive it had sounded the moment the words slipped past her lips; of course he had reason to do it... And the look on Gene's face was one of such smug amusement and superiority that she knew he wouldn't allow the mistake to slip without some sort of dig at her intelligence.

"Aside from the obvious 'you bonked off my Goddaughter', you mean?" he asked snidely, sneering slightly as she visibly bristled at his words. "There's always the tiny possibility he didn't like that very much! An' if Sophia's your 'don't tell' bossy git, then Bob's yer uncle, an' Ellison's got a bloody motive to frame the scummy little bitch without having to say a word!"

"That's just completely illogical and-!"

"Illogical?" Gene laughed. "You're meant to be a profiler, Alex, and a bloody copper! If he's got some friggin' mental cock-up where 'e can't do something he's told not to, then surely he'll just find a loophole an' do it when she won't know!"

Alex was about to rant at him, but her expression quickly fell back to one of confusion. "So now you're saying Sophia didn't know about it?"

"I'm sayin' she's not the only one with a motive," Gene retorted swiftly, trying not to lose face as Alex crossed her arms smugly over her chest.

"So you agree with me then?" she teased, lips quirking into a tiny smirk of amusement as she met his bright blue eyes.

"No," he answered smoothly. "I'm bein' a copper and followin' up possible lines of enquiry... that ringin' any bells, or would yer like me to explain the concept?"

"You are such a pigheaded, arrogant-!" Her tirade was interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone, cutting above her angered voice easily and stopping her in her tracks. Gene walked over quickly, snatching the phone from its cradle and bringing it quickly to his ear.

"Bronson you useless tosser," he snapped. "I need that bloody report! Now!"

----

The Quattro swerved to a halt outside the forensics building, and Gene was out of the car a second later, leaving a ranting Alex in his wake as he entered.

"You're such an indecisive brute sometimes!" She snapped, her heels clattering on the tiled flooring, five metres behind him as they descended the stairs and pushed open the second door. Gene simply rolled his eyes; he'd dealt with twenty minutes of her bickering in the car, and he was close to snapping. He could handle the snide comments about her being right – he expected nothing less, in fact, and there was always the added bonus of the slight undercurrent of sexuality that he found extremely attractive, made ten times better by the red flush of her skin and the angry heaving of her chest...

No, it wasn't the sniping that bothered him – he'd actually go so far as to say he enjoyed that whole concept - it was simply her incessant need to argue with him, even when he conceded that maybe, just maybe, he'd overlooked something. Never mind the fact she'd probably try to shag an apology out of him later, or that she was wrong too, she simply had to snap and bicker and moan and argue at him until she was blue in the face; part of him wanted to tell her to shove her posh, flimsy knickers in her mouth and keep them there until she choked – the other part wanted to take her outside and give her something else to choke on that wasn't fabric and most definitely wasn't flimsy...

Clearing his head with a shake, he pushed the door to Bronson's lab open and ignored her continued shouts.

"You know, sometimes I don't even know why I bother!" She ranted. "I give you my psychological insights and you throw them in my face, but whenever they suit you, you decide it'll be in your best interest to-!"

Gene rounded on her, grasping her shoulders and sighing dramatically as he met her gaze. "Bolly, please, shut yer trap for twenty minutes and let Bronson talk! If you're lucky, you might be able to yell more blue-bloody-murder at me afterwards when he proves me wrong! Until then, would you please just shut it?!" He watched her face carefully, waiting for the telling twitch of her mouth that would show him that she was about to speak; it didn't come. With a breath of relief, he let her go, turning around just as Bronson cleared his throat.

"Don't let me interrupt the love fest," he murmured tiredly. "I've only been worked more ways than a contortionist prostitute today- I suppose I could do with a rest."

Gene rolled his eyes, stepping forwards and poking a finger in the direction of the methodically laid out evidence, all of which looked thoroughly stained and muddied. "Shut yer whining, Bronson, you get paid for it don't you? What've you got?"

Bronson glowered at him slightly, stepping forwards and picking up a brown manila file, which he flipped open with a meticulous air of practice. "For the people I deal with, DCI Hunt, I hasten to say that I don't get paid anywhere near enough!" He looked pointedly at Gene, and then glanced down at his notes, as though he hadn't already memorised every scrounging detail he could suffice from the bundle of evidence; Gene had the sense to stay quiet, and waited for Bronson to speak.

"Rosa McKellen's hair, and Ciaran Merlot's, are both on the pillow; the blood's definitely hers, and there are very small fragments of bone caught in the fibres," he pointed towards a petri-dish which, as Gene leaned forwards, could be seen to hold what looked like white dust.

"Bone?" Gene frowned, glancing at Bronson's face. "Looks like bloody milkshake powder to me!"

"Yes, I suppose milkshake powder does bear a striking elemental resemblance to malnourished bone, doesn't it?" Bronson retorted, teeth clenched; Gene fell back slightly, ignoring the look of annoyance on Alex's face. "Though I can't see the logic in her having any milkshake powder with her, can you? It's hardly what one takes with you when you're planning to die..." He moved to the next petri-dish, and pointed once again; Gene couldn't tell the difference between the previous one. It looked like just another sample of white dust, barely even sprinkling the bottom, and the milkshake comment once again rose unbidden in Gene's mind, although the look on Bronson's face when he moved to suggest it quickly dissuaded him from that point of speculation, and he kept his mouth shut.

"Ground sleeping tablets," Bronson said, pointing to his file. "Prescribed to her, on repeat, for the last two years," he held the file out, "would you like to see?"

"No," Gene muttered, frowning and leaning in close. "How'd you get this out? That stuff's smaller than a bloody amoeba!"

"A hoover," Bronson concluded smoothly, turning back to the evidence and ignoring Gene's disbelieving splutter. "Now, these gloves of yours, they seem to-"

"Hang on," Gene interrupted, frowning slightly. "How come these things didn't show up in the post mortem? Those tablets – you never mentioned them before!"

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Bronson pulled another file from his desk and flicked it open, reading it off smoothly. "Unusually high levels of prescribed sleeping tablet in bloodstream... I simply conversed with her doctor, who said she'd been given a more concentrated dose due to her extreme difficulty sleeping – understandable, given her condition - and it seemed of little consequence..." He held out the report. "It's in there, DCI Hunt; it just wasn't as conclusive as you'd have liked."

"Not as conclusive as I'd have liked?" Gene repeated, blanching slightly. "It's about as conclusive as a schizophrenic hermaphrodite with a tampon shoved up 'is nose!"

"Because tampons make every decision more difficult," Alex offered sarcastically, smiling falsely at Gene before continuing. "In fact, if a woman has anything shoved between her thighs, she's more than likely to develop a complex psychological inability to 'take charge'..." she looked pointedly at Gene. "Wouldn't you agree, DCI Hunt?"

"Please forgive DI Drake," Gene retorted acidly, his eyes narrowing warningly. "The rusty poker she shoved up 'er arse this morning must be chafing!"

Bronson looked from one to the other of them, taking note of the slight angry flush of Alex's cheeks, and the clench of Gene's jaw, before deciding to avoid the subject as widely as possible by scanning down his file.

"As I was saying," he murmured, eyebrows knitting slightly together in faux concentration as, out of the corner of his eye, he could see both Gene and Alex glowering spectacularly at one another. "The gloves have the same blood on them, there are definite fingerprints from Miss Merlot, though that's to be expected if she's handled them since the incident... Although I was intrigued by the second pair of prints; I'll admit that it did surprise me slightly. I checked McKellen and Mister Merlot's prints, and neither of them matched, but after your fifth phone call-" at this he glanced rather pointedly and accusingly at Gene, "-I checked the other leads, just for safety. Bragden, Powler, Summerton – all drew blanks... Mister Ellison however..." His eyebrows rose slightly before he went on, "well, as you suggested, DCI Hunt, he was all over it like- what was it you said?"

Gene smirked, half out of amusement, half out of a smug sense of superiority when he saw the slight disbelief in Alex's eyes. "That'd be 'all over it like prozzie's in a whorehouse,'" he supplied generously, crossing his arms in delight as Alex clenched her jaw slightly.

Bronson nodded, half-smiling, then went on. "Well yes... all over it; slightly over the top of Merlot's prints, so presumably he's the last one to have handled them... other than that, there's really nothing else new to the investigation; hairs on the pillow are McKellen's and Merlot's, as I said, the purse is McKellen's, the prescription bottle is hers... That's all I've got, I'm afraid." He looked up apologetically, but Gene was nodding, already turning away on his heel.

"That's all we need!" He muttered, grabbing Alex by the elbow and towing her out of the room, calling over his shoulder. "Good work, Bronson!"

Before the other man could reply, the DCI and his protesting under-officer were in the corridor, the heavy metal door swinging shut in their wake. With a sigh, he carefully restacked his files, and moved over to the kitchenette, in the hope of a small break.

---

"This, Bolly," Gene said as he led her easily towards the car, "is where you apologize for yelling and treatin' the little shit like the Holy Virgin, and offer me unlimited access to your particularly edible buttocks..." he slapped the aforementioned body part lightly, smirking when she made a noise of disgust and shrugged him off.

"Just because his fingerprints are on the gloves, doesn't mean-!" Her response was weak, but Gene's look of amusement caused her to fall silent, and she flushed a heated red as she stamped towards the car, waiting by her door impatiently for Gene to unlock it. His hand brushed hers as the key slid into the lock, and she jerked it away with a glare, ignoring the dance of his eyes as she jerked open the door and sat in heavily. As Gene slid in beside her, she slammed the heavy door shut, relishing the look of disgust on his face.

"Don't slam my bloody door you daft-!"

"You know Gene, just because you made one theoretical conclusion that _momentarily _appears to be leaning in your favour, doesn't mean I'm going to get down and start 'apologising' to various parts of your anatomy!" Her voice was snappy and angered, and Gene smirked, turning the key in the ignition and swerving the car from its parking space as he let her rant. "If there was any damage done to your ego, you can stroke it back to health yourself this time!"

He rolled his eyes, spinning easily around the corner and ignoring her slight discomfort as her fingers tightened visibly on her own thighs. "You know your problem, Bolly?" Gene asked, foot flat on the pedal as he weaved between cars and through the streets. "You can't hack losin'; an' that, is a serious flaw in your character!" He twisted the wheel sharply, turning another corner as she huffed angrily in reply.

"Oh, of course it's _my_ character with the problem! Never mind your caveman views and pig-headed, archaic attitudes to women - everything that's slightly disputable has to be _my_ fault!"

"It's not difficult to hear me out an' see if the bastards got his fingers in a place other than his bum-chums arse!" Gene snapped back.

"Just because he's gay doesn't mean-!"

"I didn't say it meant anything!" He retorted instantly. "But if he's gunna be a poofter, an' he's gunna be scum, then I can insult his shit poking prick as much as I damn well please!" He glowered at her, taking his eyes briefly off the road as he slammed his foot down, before glancing away from her and pouting angrily.

"Oh and I'm sure you're totally accepting of his sexuality, too," Alex snapped, her cheeks flushed red.

Gene tightened his grip on the wheel, trying and failing not to take notice of the heaving chest, the angrily parted lips, and the tight clench of her jaw... He could feel himself responding, feel the irrepressible twitch in his groin as he tried to imagine anything but her, on her knees with her mouth wrapped around him, tits spilling out of her top and- He shook himself, tuning back into her angry tirade as best as he could.

"And I'm sure there's no vendetta against him at all, sure your stereotypical, oafish views haven't blurred your judgement in any way, or-!"

He snapped then, felt himself bristle, his groin twitch and his heart pound angrily as he shouted right back at her. "I've let him fanny around for six months and act like nothings the bloody matter, Alex! He's been pissing on us for this whole time with a smirk on his face an' a finger up his arse, and I'm gunna bloody find out why!" His voice was harsh, angry, and unrestrained, and a second later he found himself swerving down two narrow back streets and then into what appeared to be an abandoned car park.

"What the hell are you doing?" She snapped viciously, slamming her hand on the dashboard in agitated frustration. "One minute, you're accusing someone of being an accomplice, and the next you're pulling over for a power nap! Start the car, Gene!"

"Shut up, Bolly," he growled, fingers tightening around the wheel, flexing slightly, as though trying to distract himself; Alex didn't care.

"Don't tell me what to do! I'm your DI and you're behaving like an irresponsible, moody, hormonal teenager! We have a job to do, Gene, unless it's escaped your notice! So stop-!"

"Alex, would you please shut your gob and stop ranting like some crazed lunatic! I'm trying to make myself more bloody presentable, not lift up the flagpole and flash it around like some pissed pirate on the skysail!" His voice was coarse, gruff, and slightly strained, and it took Alex a few moments to understand what he meant; from the corner of his eye, he saw her eyes drift downwards, before her face contorted with disgust.

"You cannot seriously be getting turned on by this?" She said, voice twisted with revulsion, although Gene didn't miss the way she crossed one leg over the other and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, pushing her breasts upwards and making him groan in unrestrained arousal; the blood he'd been willing to his head flew straight back downwards, and he had to gulp back the sudden desire to reach over and jerk her onto his lap. "You've just left a forensic lab, and you're thinking about a shag? What kind of-?"

"I'm trying not to bloody think about a shag!" Gene snapped, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel and glowering at her darkly. "If you'd shut up and stop heavin' yer tits around like Santa's ruddy sack, maybe we could go back to bloody work!"

"I am not 'heaving my tits around'!" She shouted, voice raising as she hit her fist against the window, ignoring Gene's look of anger as she mistreated his precious car. "If you had less of a one-track mind, you'd be able to stop thinking about sex and start thinking about your job, instead of walking around with a perpetual hard-on in your trousers!"

He narrowed his eyes, fingers tight on the wheel as she spoke. He took a few moments to collect himself, trying to ignore her as she ranted on about his lack of work ethic, his completely outdated opinions, and his inability to think with his head instead of his dick...

He managed about thirty seconds, and then he cracked, leaning over swiftly and grabbing her head between both of his hands, before pressing his lips swiftly to her own; his mouth was firm, hard and angry against hers, and for a moment, he expected her to slap him away. Instead, she bit at him, her hand tugging at his hair almost viciously, drawing him closer as her teeth dug into his lower lip. His gasp was caught somewhere between pain, lust and pleasure, and a second later his fingers were under her blouse, fiercely groping and squeezing at her breast as her nails dug into his neck. His other hand slid easily around her waist, tugging her tighter against him and feeling her shift her legs, throwing one long limb across his hip as she settled on his lap, pushing him fiercely back against the seat as her mouth and tongue clashed angrily with his own.

One of Gene's hands remained up Alex's top, pushing beneath the fabric of her bra and squeezing hard, fingers probably leaving marks as his teeth scraped over her tongue; she gasped, pressing closer and letting out a grunt of protest when her back bumped against the steering wheel. Barely breaking for breath, Gene's hand found the handle beneath his seat, shoving the chair as far back as was possible, his mouth never leaving hers. Her hands were all over him, nails scraping across his skin, and he took a moment to wonder at what point in their argument she had decided sex wasn't such a bad idea after all, before she pressed tighter into his erection, and he let out a harsh growl of lust.

"Should stop, Alex," he ground out, hand tearing at the button and zip of her jeans, betraying his words as his mouth continued to whisper against her own, his fingers sliding down to stroke her through the damp fabric of her underwear. "Wouldn't want me thinkin' you enjoyed all my macho bollocks, would you?" His words were rough, fingers working her eagerly, smoothly, harshly... She moaned against him, biting at his neck and pushing down against his hand as she answered him.

"Enjoyment and arousal are two very different things," she murmured, her delicate hands un-tucking his shirt, loosening his belt and opening his trousers, even as Gene's thumb worked teasingly against her clit and she let out a soft whimper.

Gene smirked, pinching her slightly as she pushed her hands under the band of his boxers, cool fingers wrapping around him confidently as her teeth bit at his collarbone. He closed his eyes briefly, twisting his fingers gently inside her as he growled out his reply. "You seem to be confusin' the two on this occasion," he informed her, just as her thumb stroked his tip and he exhaled shakily. "Soaking wet and moaning like a-!" He groaned slightly, his breathing sharp before he went on. "Moaning like a hussy... Oh Christ, that feels good..."

"You like it?" She asked, tracing her nails up his length with a wicked glint in her eye, breath hot on his face as she pressed down on him.

Gene nodded, head lolling back, eyes closed as he groaned softly. "Oh yeah... but not as much as you'll like this!" His free hand shoved up her top once more, pushing beneath her bra and twisting the nipple sharply, just as his nail scraped across her clit and his mouth found on her neck, sharply biting as her hand tightened around him and her head flew backwards. He curled his fingers into her, grunting as she bucked against him, as she clenched around his hand and let out a loud, strangled whimper of pleasure.

"See?" He growled, squeezing her tight. "You're such a fucking hypocrite... all wet for me..." he nudged her blouse slightly aside with his nose, and then bit hard at the curve of her breast, hearing her gasp and feeling her buck as he grunted his approval. "You like arguing with me..." With a groan, he scratched his thumbnail across her clitoris, biting down at her breast as she reached her peak, tight and wet as she spilled over his fingers, her own hand still tight around his erection as she writhed against him. He didn't waste any time, removing his hands and moving to cover her own, squeezing insistently as he led her into a rhythm, meeting her hazel orbs with urging eyes.

She stared back at him, still flushed from her orgasm, rolling her hips against him as she traced her nails down over his length, stroking him into a frenzy of lust as he tried to speak.

"Alex- shit! That's so- oh fuck! Bolly, I- oh bollocks! Christ!" His head flew back as she continued to caress him, but as one hand slid to caress his balls, he grabbed her head, pushing it suggestively lower with a dominant growl.

"Get down!" He told her, his hand insistent on the back of her neck as she complied, releasing him swiftly and sliding to the floor with difficulty, knelt between his legs and cramped by the close proximity of the wheel and the door. She made to protest, but his hand and voice were all-consuming, sending a flood of arousal through her body as she hurried to do as he wanted. Alex dipped her head swiftly, opening her mouth and sucking softly at the fleshy base of him, her hands rolling and caressing his testicles as his hands tangled in her hair. She took her time, taking one of his balls into her mouth and moaning loudly as she sucked and licked, just as Gene dragged her away and pushed her over his tip.

"Yes..." he breathed, hand tight on her head as she looked up at him, both hands working his base as she teased and sucked at him, grazing him lightly with her teeth and watching as he broke out in a sweat, his eyes tightly closed as he grunted out his pleasure, forcing her further down. Compliant, Alex took him in deep, angling him towards the back of her throat as he thrust his hips towards her, pumping into her frantically as she ran one hand over his balls, the other tracing up over his thigh.

She felt him stiffen, his testicles tightening as he prepared to come, and her centre pounded with anticipation, throbbing with arousal as he delivered a string of obscenities, swearing and grunting as he held her still. "Take it!" He ordered gruffly, his voice dry and hoarse as her tongue teased at his heated flesh. She moaned softly around him, sending soft vibrations down his length and making him lose all sense of control; barely moments later, he was jerking into her mouth, releasing himself with a loud, raw growl of pleasure as she swallowed him eagerly.

She held him in her mouth for a few moments, feeling his insistent hand become gentler on her skull as she did so, before drawing away.

---

She righted herself a few minutes later, wincing slightly at the cramp in her neck as she slid into the passenger seat and refastened her trousers, biting her lip at the wave of lust in her stomach, and trying to ignore the small, satisfied grin on Gene's face as he tucked himself away.

"You're filthy..." he grinned, glancing over at her and smirking at the disarray that had become of her hair. "Any time you're angry Bols, feel free to pull me over for a repeat performance."

Alex rolled her eyes, settling into her chair and attempting to right her appearance in the mirror, to no avail. "Just because I sucked you off, it doesn't make you right!"

"No, Bols, but it was a damn sight better than a toss off, and it shut you up fer a couple of minutes; I'd say it's an all-round good day, wouldn't you?" He smirked over at her as he lit up a cigarette, ignoring her look of disgust as she rolled down the window swiftly.

"Not exactly the sentiment I'd have selected," Alex conceded, crossing her legs and waving her hand in front of her face. "We are actually supposed to be interviewing suspects, not having oral sex in an abandoned car park!"

"True," Gene admitted, moving his seat back to its correct position before frowning thoughtfully, eyes scanning up her long legs. "Though come to think of it, I never did get my mouth on you..." His hand slid up her thigh suggestively, and he saw her sigh, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Don't even think about it," she told him firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Gene grinned, turning the key in the ignition as he licked his lips suggestively. "Oh, I always think about it, Bolly... it's just a question of when, where, and how." He leaned over, his arm sliding around her shoulders and tugging her closer, enough that he could press his lips to her neck. "Mmm... this is a nice start..." his lips slid over her pulse point, up to her jaw, across her cheeks, and then he sighed, murmuring softly against her lips. "How long till the weekend?"

Despite herself, Alex smiled, fingers tangling in his hair as she checked her watch, then turned back to his mouth, lips a millimetre from his. "About three hours, twenty four minutes and seventeen seconds... Including drinks with Harrison."

"Mmm..." Gene murmured, sucking her lip lightly. "Any reason to do anything but shag each other senseless after that?"

"We need to do some shopping..." Alex replied, stroking his neck with delicate fingers.

"Take half an hour after work," he grinned, hand slipping further up her leg. "Anything else?"

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, and then shrugged. "Depends how much work we get done today..."

"Mmm..." Gene agreed, nodding slightly. "Well... we interview Ellison, get Ray to do Sophia, an' then we can get 'em shoved into the cells till next week, an' I can royally ream your gorgeous arse from seven tonight till nine on Monday morning!"

"Should probably walk Fitz, first..." Alex smiled, watching as he groaned softly, withdrawing his mouth and resting his head on her shoulder.

"Damn dogs more trouble than 'e's worth," he muttered, nipping at her collar bone. "Still... suppose there's always that big field down the road... he can chase birds, an' I'll just give you a good going over with-!"

Alex laughed, pushing him off and shaking her head at his lewdness. "I'm not going to shag you in a field!"

He pouted, settling into his seat and looking over at her dejectedly. "You sucked me off in a car park," he pointed out, eyebrows rising suggestively. She shook her head, grinning.

"And I suppose you'd be all too happy to whip out your treasured goods in the middle of a field, when any old dear might decide that a Saturday afternoon is the perfect time for dog walking, right?"

Gene shrugged, grinning slightly as his hand traced over the curve of her breast. "We could get up early?" He suggested. "Quick romp in the sack, shag in the field, fuck in the shower and breakfast in bed...?" He trailed off, his tone suggestive and flirtatious, and Alex could only laugh, pushing him in the shoulder.

"You can make breakfast in bed, but the field still won't happen."

"Who said anything about making breakfast?" He teased, glancing lewdly downwards. "I was thinking about eatin' somethin' more... organic." She slapped him lightly on the arm, her laugh lightly tinkering, and Gene chuckled, drawing away and putting the car into gear as he pressed down on the pedal, steering the car out swiftly.

"You'd still have to do something to get that breakfast," Alex pointed out as he drove, smirking to herself.

Gene grinned, glancing over at her with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Not much, though," he smirked. "It's practically on tap with you, isn't it?"

She rolled her eyes, winding up the window as Gene tossed out his cigarette and headed back for the station.

---

**Big thank you to Vintage for beta-ing this one!**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**As always, reviews are welcomed and embraced :-)**

**Mage of the Heart**


	40. Not The Judge, Not The Jury

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Sorry about the delay – unbeta-ed for now as I'm just trying to get as much writing done as possible before S3 – hope it's alright!**

**Promise for less angst next time!**

**----**

The photographs of the gloves hit the table with a loud snap, skidding out across the surface of the interview table as Joe Ellison's eyes fell down to each square picture in turn.

"You better start talking Ellison," Gene growled, his voice low and menacing as it rose from his chest. "Because I don't appreciate being treated like a gammy wart on your foot, and I'm two minutes away from chargin' you with conspiracy an' obstruction of justice!" His eyes burned angrily, flashing dark blue as Ellison picked up the closest picture with trembling fingers.

For a moment, there was no response, simply an awed silence in which Ellison seemed to struggle for words, and then, suddenly, out of the blue, he smiled, his face splitting in two as his teeth seemed to slice across his features, the force of it causing the lines of his face to crack and splinter like plasterboard, joy shining from his eyes as he looked from one to the other of them in wonder.

Both Alex and Gene exchanged brief glances before Gene spoke, his voice evidently un-amused as he did so. "When you're quite finished grinning like the Cheshire cat with a Royal knob up 'is arse, why don't you explain what's so god-damned funny? Because I'm not seeing it myself! Your paws are all over the damn things, and unless you do some bloody quick explainin', I'm gunna see you done for wasting my time and leading the investigation to a halt when-!"

"Gene!" Alex murmured, shaking her head and halting him with a warning look before turning back to Joe. "Can you explain why your fingerprints are on the gloves, Joe?" She asked softly, folding her hands primly on the desk before her, not once breaking eye contact as she kept her voice level and calm. Gene snorted, rolling his eyes as his arms crossed firmly over his chest, toe tapping impatiently beneath the table while he looked at Joe expectantly.

The older man's face had crinkled in thought and confusion as he glanced from one to the other of them, evidently bemused. "Because I moved them," he said, frowning as he looked at them both again. Gene stared for several seconds, waiting for either Joe or Alex to say something else; when neither of them did, he half laughed to himself.

"Well, that's alright then," he said, standing up and waving his arm mockingly in the direction of the door. "I'm sure that'll help us greatly in court; you're free to go." He waited, watching as Joe glanced at Alex, and then stood up slowly; Gene decided to ignore the look of warning Alex sent his way as Ellison rounded the table and moved towards the door. The second he passed him, Gene's hand slammed into his chest, pushing him brutishly down into the chair Gene had just vacated. "Start talkin' Ellison, or I'm gunna kick you so 'ard in the nuts they'll retreat up yer own arse!"

"Gene, please," Alex murmured, glowering darkly across at him as he scowled right back. "What is threatening him going to do?"

"Well Bolly, I'd imagine it'll loosen 'is lying tongue and make 'is bollucks shrink to the size of raisins if he's got any sense!" His retort was smooth, and Alex could only roll her eyes in disgust.

"Do you actually have a shred of empathy in you?" She asked, voice clipped and tight.

"No," he replied simply, turning back to Joe and bending down so that their faces were on a level. He met the terrified eyes for a few moments before he spoke; "start talkin'," he warned softly. "Because I've got a bastard big pen and a charge sheet , and they say you're lookin' at ten bloody long years of male affection that'll make even a bent poofter like you long for a fanny an' a pair o' tits ter sink yer teeth into!"

"Gene, is it really necessary for you to-?"

"I just moved the gloves!" Joe said, shaking his head vigorously. "I didn't kill Rosa, I just moved the gloves. They were in the bin bag – all I did was move them! She told me to get rid of them, an' I did! I never saw 'em again! I didn't kill her!"

Gene perched on the desk, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrow as he glowered down. "So you got rid of 'em, an' you thought you'd just leave out the whole 'concealin' evidence' malarkey?" He could see Alex rolling her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief, but he ignored her, pressing on without giving Joe the opportunity to answer. "Because in my world I can string you up by yer bollucks fer that sort of thing, and-!"

"But in this world," Alex interrupted acidly, "you're a policeman, and he is a suspect, and perhaps we should treat him as such?" Her voice trailed into sweetness as she blinked up at him innocently. Both Joe and Gene stared at her, Gene in evident anger, Joe in positive awe.

"Well, you're the psychiatrist," Gene growled, "why don't you tell me how I should be doin' it? Or better yet, why don't you do it yourself? And while yer at it, I'll go practise homophobia and racism and whatever else it is you like to accuse me of on a regular basis- I could do with a hobby."

He expected her to argue, to tell him to grow up; he was more than a little surprised – though in hindsight he realized that he shouldn't have been – when she smiled sweetly at him and nodded towards the door. "Fine," she conceded, "close the door on your way out, will you?"

He blinked, glaring at her for several seconds, ignoring the way Ellison glanced between them like a spectator at a tennis match, before Gene stood up, seeing the equal surprise in Alex's own eyes as he did so. "Don't get too attached, love," he murmured to her coolly, reaching for his cigarettes and lighting up as he blew the smoke directly into Joe's face, ignoring the other mans look of fear, and the sweat that trickled down Joe's brow. "Some blokes just prefer a bit of jiggle down under rather than up above, if yer catch my unsavoury drift..." He combined the words with a one-handed grab at the air next to his hip, followed by another in line with his chest; Alex rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Loaded with ambiguity as it was, I'm sure I got the jist," She drawled, glaring at him pointedly. Gene smirked, leaving the room without any further hesitation, except to blow further smoke in Joe's direction.

The moment the door closed, Alex smiled encouragingly at Joe, her tone soft and apologetic. "I'm very sorry you had to hear that," she said sincerely. "But we do need to know why those gloves have your prints on them, I'm afraid; at the moment, you could very easily be implicated as an accomplice."

"But I only moved them!" Joe protested, his eyes filled with evident confusion. "She gave me the bin bag, she said to get rid of them an' I did!"

"But you didn't destroy them?" Alex said, her tone careful as she pried gently onwards.

"She didn't tell me to!" Joe answered, shaking his head. "She said get rid of them! I got rid of them! She never saw them again, I never saw them again, and he never saw them again! I got rid of them!" His voice was edged with panic and fear, and he began wringing his hands repeatedly in his lap. "I didn't kill her!"

"I know you didn't kill her," Alex assured him, spreading her hands calmly. "I just need you to explain why you were there, and why you didn't tell us about the gloves before... can you do that?"

Joe shook his head instantly, but at the look of imploring Alex sent his way, he quavered slightly, glancing around the room as though terrified someone were watching him. The nervous glancing continued, but a moment later he leaned forwards, beckoning her closer with his hand, his jaw trembling as he went to speak. Alex shifted slightly closer, not taking her eyes from him as he gulped hard, then whispered softly. "She said she'd get me killed," he murmured, his lip shaking. "She said- she said I'd seen what he did and he'd- she said he'd do it to me if I told you..."

Alex waited, expecting more, but feeling her frustration when it wasn't forthcoming. With effort, she nodded encouragingly. "What happened next?"

"I can't tell you!" Joe wheezed, shaking his head vigorously as tears sprung to his eyes. "He'll kill me! She said he'd kill me! She'll get him to-!"

"I promise you," Alex said, her voice strong and level above his wavering cries, "both she and her brother are locked up very tight; they can't get to you here. You have to trust me; I can help you, but you have to tell me what happened."

Joe continued shaking his head, pressing his fist to his mouth as the tears brimmed over, running down his face. "She'll get out... she'll kill me... Don't want to do it- you can't make me!"

"You're right," she agreed softly, nodding slowly. "I can't make you. But if you don't help us, you could end up in prison; all I'm asking is that you try... can you do that?"

He shook his head, and Alex had to restrain the large urge to groan in annoyance. Instead, she nodded, breathing deeply before she spoke. "Ok... how about, you don't tell me?" She suggested quietly, watching as Joe's face crinkled with mistrust. "How about I guess, and you simply nod or shake your head? That way, you don't tell me anything I don't already know... would that work?"

Joe's eyes narrowed, but he nodded slowly, wetting his lips almost nervously before speaking again. "Can nod if it's not important...But, if it's tellin' you anything I just- just won't talk..." he met Alex's eyes, his jaw tight, but Alex nodded swiftly, smiling encouragingly as she did so.

"That's fine," she said softly. "Now, for every question you answer as nothing, I'm going to tap the desk, alright?" He nodded. Smiling encouragingly, she spoke quietly, "I'm just going to ask a few simple questions first, ok? Just shake your head, or nod, or say nothing."

Joe nodded slowly, gripping his elbows as he settled back into the chair, the sweat coursing down his brow as he bit hard upon his lip.

----

"Are you Joe Ellison?" He nodded slowly, rocking slightly on his chair as he pushed his hand against his mouth.

"Do you like chocolate?" Another slow nod, then silence.

"Have you ever eaten cheese?" A nod; yes.

"Did you ever get married?" A shake of the head; no.

They went on for several minutes, simple facts that were utterly meaningless and that, had Gene been present, would have been scorned and snorted at. Eventually, they started to make progress, and she could feel the room become slightly tenser as the man opposite her seemed to clam up with discomfort the more questions he answered.

"Did Rosa ever mention Ciaran to you?" A shake of the head, followed by a ragged breath.

"Did she mention an angel?" He shook his head again; no, she didn't.

"On the night that she died, did you know she'd be at the warehouse?" A sob, then another shake of the head as his lip quivered again.

"Did Sophia come and get you?" No, he answered with another shake; she hadn't.

"Your house is near to the warehouse, isn't it?" He nodded his head in confirmation, his eyes hard.

"Were you woken up from your sleep?" She asked, wetting her lips and watching him carefully as he nodded hesitantly, apparently considering whether this information would be too much.

"Did you hear screaming?" He met her eyes, glanced downwards, and then looked away; she tapped the desk next to the tape player with the flat of her palm.

Slowly, she started to make way; he'd woken up to screams, left the house to learn what was causing the commotion, walked into the warehouse to find Ciaran and Sophia bent over Rosa's body. He'd been scared; he'd seen Ciaran as he tried to burn the wallet, he'd run away, but Sophia had found him, told him to be quiet, to say nothing to anyone unless he wanted to end up like Rosa...

It was slow work, and Alex could see the clock in the corner of the room ticking slowly towards six, but she didn't stop, keen to strike while the iron was still hot, to learn as much as she could about Joe's involvement before he recoiled back into his shell of despair. Every piece of information she learned was another ten questions to be asked, and every now and then the silences in which he couldn't speak were filled with his sobs, his ragged breathing, and the habitual scratching of his skin.

Every so often, Alex saw Gene walking past outside, peering in with a look of frustration on his face; he didn't interrupt, and she made no attempt to leave until she was finished.

---

"I admit I was a little in the wrong," Alex ground out, her teeth threatening to shatter as she tried to ignore the look of smug superiority that was spreading itself across Gene's face. "It would appear you may have been right about Joe's involvement, but I was right in saying that Sophia didn't know the gloves were-!"

"I'm sorry, could you just repeat that?" Gene asked, grappling in his drawer and pulling out a tape recorder, before pressing firmly down upon the record button. "Now, tell me again that I was right and you were wrong..."

"I'll admit that Joe didn't tell us everything the first time," Alex conceded tightly, tapping her foot with evident impatience. "And I'll admit that I shouldn't have eliminated his involvement, but you have to admit that I was right about Sophia and-!"

"Right," Gene said, smirking to himself and cutting off the recorder as he stood up. "Well, now that you've finished arsing around in there for two hours more than was necessary, tryin' to wheedle out what we could've found in five minutes, I'm horny, hungry, and wound up like a stripper round a maypole; you gunna sort me out, or am I gunna have to resort to a five-knuckle shuffle in the bogs?"

Alex looked at him for several moments, feeling her stomach flip ever so slightly at the idea of taking him home right then... But he was smug, and grinning like the Cheshire cat himself as he watched her expectantly – so she smiled sweetly as she shrugged."Well," she murmured thoughtfully, "I'm afraid you'll have to settle for the shuffle..."

Gene paused as he shrugged his coat on, his smugness deteriorating into a dark glower as he looked across at her, watching with annoyance as she busied herself with a file. He took a moment to admire her tits as she bent over, and then, deciding that the best course of action was persuasion, walked around the desk to settle himself behind her, hands resting lightly on her hips. "Course I will," he agreed, resting his head on her shoulder as his hips aligned with hers, lips teasing the base of her ear gently. "Shuffle in the bogs... Fancy joining me?" His lips stayed against her skin as he breathed deeply, waiting for her response; Alex did nothing but roll her eyes before she spoke again, her voice soft.

"Did Sophia say anything?" She asked, flipping the page and scanning down half-heartedly as she ignored the soft whispers of his lips against her neck, and the trickling of warmth that shot from the point of contact between lips and skin, right down to the centre of her body.

"Denied it all," Gene said, not pulling far away from her in the slightest, even as he began shaking his head, his hairs teasing against her flesh as he moved. "She said we're a bunch of conniving bastards an' the evidence is all circumstantial..." He shrugged half-heartedly before his lips found her neck again, moving slowly and deliberately across the warm expanse of skin.

"So she's banking on Joe's discretion?" Alex murmured questioningly, her voice slipping from vaguely interested into work mode, and eliciting a small grunt of annoyance from Gene.

He drew away from her with a reluctant sigh, realising that the moment for persuasion had slipped through his fingers as she pursed her lips in thought; he simply shrugged then, rolling his eyes. "Wouldn't you expect him to shut it?" he asked, scratching at the back of his neck. "If I'd watched some bloke lop off bits of 'is Missus, I'd probably keep it shtum an' all!"

Alex laughed, shaking her head as she broke from her thoughtful reverie to glance back at him. "Would you, really?" she teased. "I don't imagine you'd be too worried about a seventeen year old boy turning a knife on you." Her voice was joking and playful, and Gene chuckled, tugging her back against his chest as he shrugged slightly.

"Maybe not," he admitted, hand slipping under her blouse and across her stomach to caress warm flesh. "But then, I'm not ortismatic, and I don't believe the word of some skanky bitch who sticks slabs of skin in 'er rubbish bags..." His lips were almost returned to her neck when she spoke again, and Gene gave up with another loud groan.

"It's autistic," Alex said, rolling her eyes at him, apparently unaware of his desire for a topic change as she carried on. "And it's part of his condition; he takes things seriously, even when he doesn't need to... that's why he's so threatened by you; he believes it when you threaten him, which is why he reacts so badly when you try and ask him things."

Gene chuckled, finger tracing around her belly button with deliberate intent as he spoke jokingly into her ear. "Yeah," he murmured, "well if you can't 'ave a joke at the expense of a poof, all funs gotta be gone from the world." He was only teasing, but he felt her stiffen angrily in response, and a moment later he let go of her with a reluctant groan, awaiting the inevitable tirade as she rounded upon him.

"Why does it bother you so much?" She asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. "He's still a man, he's still got feelings, and he's still evidently upset by-!"

"I know 'e's got feelin's!" Gene answered without thinking, his voice slightly strained. "What I'm bothered about is what 'feelings' he puts where!"

"Oh for God's sake," Alex snapped, rolling her eyes as she snapped the file on the desk closed and began shaking her head. "This is ridiculous; Joe likes men, you like women- he has no desire to shag you, so please keep your medieval attitude on homosexuality to a minimum! The fact of the matter is that he's helped us; he's given us information, and now he needs us to make him feel safe!"

Gene stared at her for several seconds in disbelief, before blinking and shaking his head. "You want me to let him off, don't you?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes upon her.

"He's not well, Gene," Alex replied, placing the file in Gene's in-tray as she went on, "he didn't have a choice!"

"Of course he had a bloody choice!" Gene snapped back at her. "Everybody-!"

"He thought she was going to kill him!" She said exasperatedly, waving her hands around for emphasis. "He couldn't have said anything!"

"Alex," he growled, "we could've ended this bloody case six months ago if it wasn't for him! He knew exactly what happened from day one, and he didn't even try to tell us!"

"He couldn't have told us!" Alex repeated, stamping her foot slightly. "He'd promised he wouldn't! She'd made him promise that-!"

"He managed to tell you just now!" Gene spat, slamming his hand on the filing cabinet in agitation. "If he can do it now, he could've done it then!"

"She's in jail now!" Alex defended angrily. "They both are! Of course it was easier to say it now! He doesn't think they can touch him!"

Gene groaned, running both hands through his hair in frustration before he spoke, his voice angry. "They'd have been in jail an' unable to touch 'im six months ago if Ellison hadn't crapped his tweed trousers and spurted more shit than spunk!"

"Oh for God's sake, Gene! He was terrified! He thought he was going to die! Of course he didn't want to-!"

"You know what bothers me, Alex?" Gene said, his voice a soft growl that was as angry as it was confused. "What bothers me is that you want to let everybody off, no matter what they've done! First Amanda, then Ciaran, now Joe... What exactly do you want, Alex? You can't cry about every bloody case we work on, alright?"

"You didn't want Ciaran to go either!" Alex retorted, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt as she jabbed him in the chest. "You agreed as much as I did that he didn't deserve it, so don't you dare-!"

"Wrong, Alex," Gene growled, catching her wrist and pushing her slightly away from him. "I agreed he shouldn't have needed to do that for her.... I know he deserves to go down, Alex – I know that! It pisses me off and it fucks with my head, but he broke the law, and he killed somebody, so however much of a bitch the victim was, or how much he loved her, he's still goin' to prison! And just because Joe finally decided to tell us something doesn't mean I have to let him bugger off out of 'ere!"

Alex shook him off, shaking her head in anger. "He won't last one minute in there – I promised we'd keep him safe! He told us everything he knew, Gene! That deserves something at least! I can't-!"

"Alex, all he's told us is that Sophia told him to get rid of the gloves, that he left them in her cupboard where he knew she'd never look 'cause she was shacked up with McKellen, an' that she was trying to keep Ciaran out of jail so she could keep gettin' laid by the dead girls Dad! Any twat with half a brain cell could make that up! He hasn't got any proof that he didn't kill 'er, or that he wasn't more involved! All we've got is his word! And even if he's tellin' the truth, he's still withheld evidence fer six months; you might believe 'e couldn't tell us because of some bloody promise she made him make, but it ain't fer us to decide whether to let 'im bugger off into the sunset with a dildo an' a packet o' lube or not!" His voice was exasperated and disbelieving, but Alex stared at him in evident disgust.

"You don't seriously believe that he deserves to be in jail, do you?" She asked bitterly. "He's completely unstable!"

"I ain't denyin' he's messed up, Alex," Gene conceded evenly, his eyes not leaving hers as he went on, "he's got more personalities than he's got hairs, but yer can't just let him off 'cause he's a bit twitchy! Any old sod could come out with all that 'don't tell' bollucks!"

"He's going to secure Sophia and Ciaran's convictions with that information!" Alex argued strongly. "Isn't that worth a little leeway?"

"Yes," Gene agreed, nodding tersely. "Or at least it would've been, if he hadn't waited six months to decide to tell us! We brought him in the day after she died and he said zilch, Alex! An' if that were any other bloke you'd be begging fer a conviction!"

"If it were any other bloke he'd deserve it!" Alex retorted.

"Any bloke would deserve it!" Gene spat back. "He's not just buggering off out of this station Alex- it isn't up to us!"

"He's unstable!" Alex shouted. "He needs help! We should help him, we shouldn't-!"

"He can see the fancy men in white coats, an' if he's as fucked as you think he is, then they can give him some pills, an' then he'll get off an' go back to fishin' shits out of his bum-chums arse!" Gene's tone was final, and Alex bristled angrily.

"Why are you being-?"

"Why are you getting such a bee in yer bonnet about him anyway?" Gene snapped suddenly. "He's been laughin' at us behind our backs, an' playin' us like Scrabble! Why are you so keen to see him let go?"

"Because he doesn't understand!" Alex hissed. "He won't survive in there - you know that!"

"I know alot of things Alex, an' half of 'em should never see the light o' day, but he is not gettin' off for being autwatsic!"

"It's autistic!" She retorted, angrily stamping her foot. "You weren't in that interview room when I was speaking to him, Gene! You didn't see him! He was terrified! That woman scared him half to death- of course he wouldn't tell us what happened! You've already admitted yourself that if it was you, you wouldn't have told anyone either!"

"That's beside the bloody point!" Gene spat, agitatedly running a hand through his hair. "It's still against the law! There are alot of things I might do that I shouldn't, but it doesn't mean I wouldn't deserve a span inside if I did!"

"But you can't just-!"

Gene interrupted her coarsely, cutting over her with angry finality in his voice. "Alex, I'm not having this argument with you! It's Friday, it's late, an' I need a drink an' a shag; either come with me an' enjoy it, or stay out of the bathroom for the next two hours!"

He slammed out before she could respond; Alex stood staring in disgust for several moments, before she grabbed her coat and followed after him.

---

"I don't agree with you," Alex said flatly as they clambered into the car an hour later, having downed the best part of a bottle of red wine in Luigi's by herself. She fastened her seatbelt easily, and Gene sighed, slightly more relaxed through the haze of alcohol, and beginning to shake his head slowly as he put the key into the ignition.

"You never do, Bolly," he murmured, glancing from left to right very briefly before pulling out of his parking space. "But getting yer knickers in a knot about the 'ole thing ain't gunna change my mind; he's still a scummy scrotum, an' I'm still keepin' him in, so save yerself the aggravation and accept it."

Alex hesitated, and Gene expected her to retort bitterly, but when she spoke, her voice cracked slightly, quieter than before and quavering through the air. "Of all the people in this case, Gene, do you really think he's the villain?"

He glanced across at her as they rounded a corner, his eyes searching for several moments before he sighed softly. "No, Alex," he murmured, reaching across to touch her hand gently. "I don't think that; you know I don't... If anyone deserves the blame, it's Rosa... But we ain't the judge or the jury; we're just coppers- it ain't up to us who walks free an' who doesn't..."

"I know," Alex said softly, nodding to herself as she glanced out of her window. "It doesn't make it any easier, though, does it?"

Gene shook his head, driving slowly as he eyed her warmly and carefully. "No," he agreed, squeezing at her hand before moving to change the gear, watching as she turned her face back towards him, head lolling back upon the headrest as she met his eyes. He smiled slightly, lifting his hand to her cheek and brushing away silent tears with a gentle thumb. "But at least we're doin' something," he concluded, glancing back at the road for a moment as she bit down on her lip.

Alex could only nod, allowing his fingers to tangle around hers as they drove home in silence; he showed no desire to speak as they drove the now familiar route, his hand occasionally tightening against her own when he caught her drifting too far into her thoughts.

When they arrived, he said nothing, unclipping her seatbelt and opening her door before letting himself out. When he had walked around the car, she was still staring blankly ahead of her, her lip trembling as she lost herself in her mind; without a seconds hesitation, he lifted her from the seat, tugging her familiar body against his chest as he lifted her out and closed the door with his foot. Though she said nothing, her arms went straight around his neck, her head resting upon his shoulder as she breathed deeply of his scent. Gene held her like fragile glass, unlocking the door with difficulty, before carrying her inside, his lips resting lightly on her forehead.

"Alex?" He murmured, setting her down upon the stairs and kneeling down to her level; she looked at him, but it felt as though her eyes passed right through him. With a sigh, he leaned closer, brushing her forehead with his lips.

"Why do we do it, Gene?" She whispered softly, her voice cracking. Gene hesitated, then traced down her cheek with gentle fingers.

"We make a difference, Bols," he told her, one hand tangled in her curls as he rested his head upon her own. "It's all we can do."

She sighed weakly against him, one of her hands sliding to the back of his neck familiarly, stroking at the small growth of hair. Without another word, Gene caught her spare hand, leading her upstairs with his fingers wrapped firmly around her own. She stood awkwardly at the bottom of the bed, and Gene slowly removed her clothes until she stood only in her underwear; he tucked her into the bed with a light press of his lips against her forehead.

"Back in a minute," he murmured, stroking her hair gently when she caught his hand. "Gotta feed the dog..." his lips found hers for the briefest of moments before he drew away again, reluctantly pulling himself away from the warmth of her as he went downstairs.

Five minutes later, when he was back beside her in their bed, curled warmly against her body, his lips found her neck, gently caressing as she lay silently at his side.

"Alex?" Gene murmured into the dark, his eyes closed.

"Yes?" she whispered back, her hand stroking slowly up his spine, voice betraying the tears that had slipped from her eyes minutes before.

Gene waited for a moment, his breath hitching slightly before he spoke again, softly and hesitantly; "Don't get a transfer..." he said eventually. "Please... just- just don't."

He felt her smile against his cheek, felt her hand stroke tenderly through his hair, and then she moved closer, arms tightening around him as she murmured her reply into the darkness; "I won't."

Gene smiled back without thought, resting his head on the pillow alongside hers, just as Fitz slipped quietly through the half-open door, jumping with surprising elegance onto the double bed as he settled himself across their feet; not bothering to protest, Gene shifted his foot slightly, gathering Alex into his chest as he drifted off to sleep.

-----

**I promise, the angst abates for a bit in the next chapter... only two or three more to go now! Hope you're still enjoying it!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	41. The Thin Blue Line

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**Ok... so maybe not totally angst-free...**

**----**

Saturday morning came and went with a flurry of blankets and clothing, and although Gene tried his best to convince Alex that they could survive without food for the day, the afternoon was whiled away with a combination of shopping and eating. Occasionally he enjoyed himself; when she piled the basket high with new underwear in the lingerie store, with the explanation that her breasts kept falling out of her current sets, he liked to think he was more than enthusiastic. When she was talking about food though, he left her to it and spent the next half hour scouring the alcohol collection for a decent bottle of whiskey.

The evening found them curled up on the sofa, half-watching an old film from the comfort of the sofa, Alex holding a large tub of ice cream with one spoon, and Gene holding a bottle of wine; the floor was already home to several beer cans, and another empty wine bottle, which had fallen on its side. Fitz was sprawled comfortably on the other side of the room with his tennis ball resting idly in front of his nose, watching them absently.

"You still eatin' that stuff?" Gene asked, cringing as Alex lifted the spoon to her lips, polishing it off easily as she glanced round at him. "It tastes like bleach!"

Alex rolled her eyes. "That's because you've ripped half of your taste buds off with all of that rubbish you eat! It's Neapolitan; I used to eat it every Sunday after lunch, but I haven't had it in years." She smiled up at him, resting her head back on his chest as she sighed contentedly.

"I don't eat rubbish," Gene grumbled, pouting slightly, even as he stroked her hair gently with his spare hand.

"Of course you don't," Alex teased, offering him a spoonful of ice cream and laughing when he turned his nose up at it. "I'm sure you regularly partake of fruits and vegetables, and-!" She broke off with a gasp as Gene playfully jerked the spoon from her hand, splashing her face with ice cream as he did so. His chuckle was warm and hearty in her ear, and her attempt to scowl dissolved instantly as he snorted his laughter into her neck.

She was just about to speak when Fitz leapt up onto the sofa, his large tongue swiping across her face repeatedly, to the sound of shrieking laughter as Alex attempted to push him off. Gene could only laugh hoarsely along with her, attempting to avoid the enthusiastic tongue that seemed to stretch repeatedly towards him by tugging Alex more firmly in front of him.

"Y'know Bols," Gene chuckled, his mouth on her neck, watching as Fitz finished cleaning Alex's face, only to push his nose firmly into the ice cream tub. "If me an' you don't work out, I reckon Fitz 'ere wouldn't mind a punt; he can't keep 'is grubby paws off yer!"

Alex, who was busy attempting to keep the ice cream out of the dog's reach, half-laughed, shaking her head. "I'd like to think I could do a little better than a dog, Gene!"

"No," Gene chuckled, kissing her neck lightly. "I've ruined you fer other men, remember? Gotta be a dog..."

"Or a sheep?" Alex suggested, laughing as she pushed Fitz down onto the floor.

"Not for shit," Gene said quickly, shaking his head. "You ain't part Welsh, are you? Can't be shackin' up with a Welsh bird, love."

She giggled lightly, shaking her head in response as she answered. "No, I'm not Welsh... but Welsh people don't actually shag sheep, you know? It's just another excuse for racial prejudice!"

Gene rolled his eyes, pushing the bottle of wine to her lips insistently. "You ain't drunk enough, Bols," he muttered. "Shouldn't be able to formulate an argument at all, unless it's for the relative merits of my exceedingly impressive manhood." He tilted the bottle up as she accepted the drink, watching as she took two large gulps before she pushed his hand away.

"Of course, for me to argue that," Alex murmured, "there'd need to be a counter-argument against all merit..." she trailed off teasingly, and Gene snorted in derision.

"Not bloody likely," he smirked, his free hand slipping downwards to caress the underside of her breast through the fabric of her top. "Never 'ad any complaints," he murmured, "least of all from you." He took a swig of wine, grinning down at her as she rolled her eyes at his smugness. Her fingers toyed with the spoon in her hand, and she glanced up at him with mischief in her gaze; Gene frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he did so. "What?" he asked, glancing down at himself in confusion. "I got something on me face or summit?"

Alex's eyes glinted as she shifted closer, mouth an inch from his as she shook her head, closing the distance easily. Gene groaned slightly, lips melting into hers as his hand strayed down to her waist, eyes fluttering shut while her tongue played gently across his own. He tugged her slightly closer, fingers dancing up and down her spine, remaining oblivious to all but the taste and feel of her...

He remained that way until he felt something cold and wet sliding down his cheek, at which he jerked back sharply, only to be greeted by Alex's raucous giggles as she fell back against the sofa, with her spoon in one hand and the ice cream tub in the other; her body quivered with laughter as Gene's jaw twitched with reluctant amusement, moving slightly away and twisting his hand to place the bottle of wine firmly behind the sofa. His free arm snaked around her waist, hauling her giggling, protesting body on top of him as he rubbed his ice-cream smeared cheek against her neck.

"That wasn't very nice, Bolly," he growled, nipping at her collarbone as she squirmed against his hold. She giggled, continuing to writhe in an attempt to escape his embrace, but only succeeding in alerting herself to the insistent erection between Gene's legs. She rubbed briefly against him, the ice cream held away from her awkwardly as he grunted his approval, eyes glittering darkly. His arms tightened again at the same moment that she went to pull away, and the movement sent the pair of them toppling off the sofa with a loud shriek, which was followed quickly by a dull thump as Alex landed first.

"Bugger!" Gene grunted, groaning slightly as he shifted his weight to prevent crushing her, at the same moment that he glanced down at her; she was still giggling, but now her breaths were slightly sharper, the result of having the wind knocked out of her as she landed. Her chest was heaving as she lay beneath him, and there was a carefree smile on her face that was filled with unmistakeable joy and flirtation. Gene felt himself twitch in his trousers, and a moment later he had abandoned his attempts to move away, and was lying above her once again, ripping at the buttons of her shirt as he pressed his mouth hard into her neck, blowing loudly against the skin until she was shrieking and shaking, laughing loudly while his hands tickled playfully at her hips.

"Stop!" She shrieked breathlessly, pushing at his chest and writhing against his insistent mouth and hands. "Stop! Gene!" His arms wrapped more firmly around her, mouth falling to her breast and blowing another raspberry into the warm skin, chuckling to himself as she shivered and shrieked.

"Can't," he muttered bluntly, pressing his hips closer into hers. "Stuck." His lips followed down the curve of her breast and the flat plain of her stomach, dropping kisses at regular intervals before tugging her skirt off with enthusiasm. She laughed, slightly breathless as she lifted herself onto her elbows, giggling ridiculously at the sight of him, his ice-cream smeared face peppering feather-light kisses over each available inch of skin.

"You don't look very stuck to me," she giggled, pushing the tub of ice cream away as she tangled one hand in his hair, sighing as his elegant fingers teased the creases at the tops of her thighs.

"That," Gene murmured, blowing gently on her hip and grinning as she writhed slightly beneath him, "is beside the point..."

Alex smiled, biting down on her lip as he nipped firmly across her stomach and over her hip, fingers hooking under the hem of her knickers as he did so.

"Mmm..." Gene murmured, kissing back up her stomach slowly. "You're very stickable, though," he mused, sucking lightly on the curve of her breast and feeling her tremble with delight beneath him. "I reckon I could stick you with something a little more-!" He broke off with a splutter as a large, smelly, wet tongue swiped across his cheek, followed by a wet nose that nuzzled far too enthusiastically at his ear. Alex shrieked, whether out of amusement or shock Gene wasn't sure, trying to push Fitz away with the flats of her palms and failing miserably as he leapt back to swipe back at her with his tongue; Gene found himself torn between an odd desire to laugh, and a huge surge of frustration at the interruption. In the end, however, the sight of Alex squirming in discomfort and disgust was enough to win out, and he pushed the dog away with a full, deep and rumbling laugh. Alex leapt to her feet as soon as she could, wriggling out from beneath Gene and leaping up with a noise of digust, swiping at her face and cringing at the dog saliva on her cheek; Gene could only look up and laugh at her, rubbing at his own cheek as she pulled her clothes back on.

"Told you he fancied yer," he grinned, standing up and laughing outright at the look of disgust on her face. "Don't look so insulted, Bols; he's got good taste – I'd make yer my bitch an' all if you'd let me!" He ducked away from her vicious slap, chuckling as he wound his arms around her waist and tugged her into his chest, mouth descending on her neck with a growl. "Now, play nice, Bolly," he teased, fingers tracing down her spine and arse, leaving a gentle tickling sensation in their wake. "Else I'll leave you to stick yourself..." he trailed off, grinning wickedly as his hand slid under the band of her knickers, stroking the soft flesh of her arse with his rough palm. He didn't give her the chance to respond as he lowered his mouth to hers, taking her lip between his teeth and growling lightly in his throat.

"Bed," he growled against her mouth, briefly swiping his tongue against her lip before she placed her hands on his shoulder, pushing him lightly away with a grimace.

"Shower," she insisted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and cringing in revulsion. "You're a fantastic kisser, Gene, but you taste like dog!"

"So do you!" He retorted, nipping at her throat with his teeth. "Still shaggable though..."

"Be that as it may," Alex grinned, pushing his head lightly away from her, "there's barely an inch of me that that dog hasn't slobbered all over, and I really think it-!"

"That's fine," Gene murmured, returning to her neck insistently and sucking gently on the sensitive flesh before he continued. "I don't mind slobber... an' there's about nine inches of me that are currently slobber free an' awaitin' your attention, so we really don't have a problem..." His voice trailed off with a suggestive lilt, hips pressing into hers insistently as he spoke. Alex simply laughed, shaking her head and pushing him firmly away.

"If you let me wash, I'll give due attention to any spare inches you happen to have going," she grinned wickedly, licking her lips suggestively before tugging herself out of his embrace, giggling as he blinked. With a coy backward glance, she raced up the stairs, giggling ever more delightedly when Gene pulled off his socks and ran after her, his arms around her waist as he brought her crashing to the floor of the landing with a hoarse grunt.

"Bugger," he groaned, glancing down at his knees as Alex laughed even more. "Too old for this, Bols," he murmured, rubbing his left knee and wincing slightly while she bit down on her lip. "Next time," he went on, cringing as pain shot up his legs, "just get yer kit off, lie back, an' think of England..." He shifted slightly, glancing down at her amused face and sighing to himself, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Alex insisted, though her voice was barely above a whisper, and it cracked with amusement. Gene sent her a warning glance and she giggled, shaking her head shyly as she shrugged. "I just prefer it when you rip my kit off and I lie back thinking of you..." Her tongue peeked out of her mouth and he groaned, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he inhaled deeply, attempting to calm himself as her fingers tangled in his hair.

"I really was gunna let you 'ave a shower y'know?" he murmured, hand teasing up her skirt and stroking her gently through the fabric of her knickers. "Reckon I'll just shag yer now though," he said, kissing up her neck. His fingers found slick, wet heat beneath her knickers, entering her slowly, and he thought she'd given in until his mouth found hers; she clammed up faster than a straight blokes arse in a gay bar, and he groaned as she shook her head and pulled away.

"Dog," she repeated, cringing. Gene sighed, rolling off her and lifting her to her feet with a frustrated pout, eyes running up over her legs as she smiled apologetically up at him. "Sorry..." she murmured, running a hand nervously through her hair; he simply nodded, then grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the bathroom.

"Don't see the problem," he muttered darkly, pushing open the bathroom door and opening the shower cubicle to set the water running, not once taking his eyes off her. "I drool just as much as the dog when you get yer kit off – we may as well just save the shower till later..." His hand tested the water briefly, and he smirked, turning to her without a word and pushing the skirt and knickers from her body; she didn't protest, kicking them off before he lifted her up in his arms and manhandled her into the cubicle with a sigh. "But since we're here..." he trailed off, closing the shower door behind him as he pushed her firmly beneath the warm spray, grinning as her blouse soon plastered itself to her body, begging to be peeled away as he lowered his mouth to her neck.

"Gene," she murmured softly, one hand in his hair as the other struggled against the buttons of his already water-sodden shirt, "where's the soap?"

"Dunno," he chuckled, discarding her blouse and snapping the bra free as he crushed her against him. "But now you're in the shower..." he trailed off, lifting his head up to meet her eyes and grinning wickedly as he pressed her up against the cool tiles, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes as the water continued to shower down upon them. She laughed, reaching down to his trousers with a grin and shaking her head.

"Next time," she murmured, pushing them and his boxers down his hips with an appreciative glimmer in her eyes, "get these off beforehand, ok?"

Gene grinned, lifting up her leg and hooking it around his waist as he rubbed teasingly against her. "Mmm..." he agreed, glancing down at her discarded clothing with a lustful smirk. "Same to you..." he leaned forward, nipping her lip briefly and sighing in frustration as she moved away to pay careful attention to the sensitive flesh of his neck. He groaned, his mouth next to her ear as he spoke.

"If yer can't kiss me on the gob, what the bloody hell are yer doin' there?" He growled, eyes fluttering closed despite himself as he spoke.

"No dog down here," she murmured in reply, lips still paying careful attention. Gene waited a moment, his breathing heavy as she nipped and kissed at his warm skin, before finally he spoke, voice gruff and lustful.

"Soaps on the shelf," he told her softly, reaching between them to slip two fingers into her heat. She gasped, biting upon his collarbone in response as she shivered against him. He waited for a few moments, his body pressed firmly against hers, fingers moving slowly and surely, thumb brushing against her clit as he went... "Now can I shag you?" He asked, biting back a grunt.

She shook her head, lips on his throat once again as she reached blindly for the bottle, her wet hands slipping slightly against the tiles before she found it. "Not just yet," she murmured, squirting the soap onto one hand and lifting it up to his face, giggling as he consented enthusiastically to having his face smothered with soap. It rinsed off quickly, and Gene crashed his mouth down to hers a second later, inwardly wondering if he had ever, in all his years, heard such an absurd excuse to delay a shag... Then he shook himself vehemently, his hand tangling in her hair as he devoured her mouth with his and pushed the thought aside.

Grabbing the soap from her hand, he squeezed it absently, allowing it to trickle down between her bare breasts before moving one large hand to massage her, rubbing gently at first, then more firmly as her kiss became deeper, more demanding. His teeth nipped her lip, fingers of one hand toying with the pebbled nipples, whilst the other hand slid to her hip, squeezing firmly as he dug his nails into soft flesh...

He was faintly aware of the cascading water, and could dimly detect the scent of fruity shower gel, before her leg was around his back and he'd pushed into her with a groan of delight; everything but the feel of her was lost to him, and nothing mattered more than being inside her, joined with her... Her hands scrabbled at his shirt, pushing it from his chest with difficulty, her nails accidentally scratching down his back as she tried to rid him of it. She fumbled an apology, but it was lost against his groan of lust, amidst the violent pleasure that shook through her body as he pounded into her, pushing her repeatedly up against the wall with the force of his thrusts.

Somewhere in it all her hand found his, their fingers tangling together and around each other as he pressed her firmly up against the tiles.

As she tightened around him, as he spilled into her with a blinding flash of light before his eyes, he felt, just as much as he heard the gentle whisper against his lips; "I love you..."

---

Ciaran's trial was set for a month later; the day they found out, Alex was too ill to make it into work, and so Gene reluctantly phoned her to share the news. She was quiet at the other end, curled up on the sofa in their duvet, and apparently not feeling up to a great deal of conversation, as she simply murmured a single word of acknowledgement before swiftly excusing herself to run to the bathroom; he went home at lunch to find her fast asleep on the sofa, with Fitz stretched at her side and his head pillowed on her stomach. Resisting the urge to wake her up, Gene had simply pressed a kiss to her forehead and left, briefly tousling the dog's fur before he went.

Later, when he finally returned home after having taken a slight detour to drink far more than his fair share in Luigi's after, Alex was sat up with a book on her lap, the healthy flush returned to her skin as she read, completely relaxed; he briefly contemplated dragging her up the stairs for a 'welcome-back-to-wellness' shag, before deciding against it, lifting the duvet from the sofa and slipping in beside her with a smirk, before wrapping his arms firmly around her waist.

"Better?" He asked, hand stroking gently across her stomach as he pressed a gentle kiss to her throat. Alex smiled, covering his hand with hers as she nodded.

"Much," she answered, squeezing gently at his fingers and shifting to rest more comfortably against his chest. Gene glanced at her doubtfully, searching her face for any tell-tale signs of illness; she did look better, he reasoned, but it wasn't the first time she'd been ill recently, and there was no knowing whether she really was feeling better, or whether she simply couldn't handle another day slumming it at home alone.

"You're sure?" He asked, eyebrows crinkling slightly.

"I'm fine," she assured him, stroking his cheek almost dotingly. "It's just a stomach bug – Viv was off with it the other day too; it's nothing to worry about, really!"

"Viv wasn't off fer three of eight shifts," Gene replied, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, no," Alex agreed, disentangling herself and pressing her lips to his forehead with a smile, "he wasn't – but then, he's a man, and the lot of you seem to have an incessant need to pretend to be macho, even when you're having your innards chewed by rabid animals." She cut off his retort by catching his mouth with hers, fingers in his hair for a few moments before she drew back, smiling, and evidently pleased with herself. "Now," she murmured, "I'm going to go to the loo – after that, do you think I'll be well enough to merit myself some attention, or should I retire to the bedroom and find other forms of entertainment?" Her eyes twinkled, and Gene groaned, his hand reaching out to tug her closer as his tongue tangled with her own.

"You're a bloody devil, woman," he muttered, standing up and gathering the duvet under his left arm, whilst the other remained wound tightly around her waist. "And one o' these days, I'll 'ave you dress up in red leather and attend to my trident like a naughty little-!" He broke off when she tugged out of his hold, crinkling her face apologetically at the look of bewilderment on his face.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I really do need the loo... but, you keep thinking about it, and I'll-!"

Gene shook his head, sighing slightly to himself. "Mood's gone, Bolly; you can't say leather and loo in quick succession without deflatin' the old todger. I'll just-" He broke off, realizing that she'd already absented herself and hurried into the downstairs toilet. With a sigh, he lifted the duvet and headed up the stairs.

---

Alex slipped into bed a few minutes later, stripping off completely before aligning her body alongside his own; Gene felt his own arousal stir beneath the fabric of his boxers, and he eagerly accepted her kisses, his lips moving against hers both tenderly and passionately as he rolled her to her back. She sighed beneath him, her body soft against his own as he pushed the boxers down on his hips, his other hand tracking gently down over her waist and towards her legs. With a gentle touch he spread her thighs, fingers stroking deftly across her slickness as he deepened the kiss, moving himself between her legs with a groan of anticipation.

"Gene..." Alex murmured, stroking his hair softly.

"Mmm..." Gene replied, kissing down her neck and across her collarbone. "Alex... God, Alex..." His mouth was warm and insistent, his eyes closed as he guided himself to her centre, teasing her entrance with the tip of his erection and sighing in bliss.

"Gene," Alex repeated more firmly, pushing him gently in the shoulder. He stilled, glancing up to meet her eyes as his hand stroked up the outside of her thigh.

"What's up?" He murmured, attempting to keep the frustration out of his voice as he spoke.

"Would you mind if I go on top?" She asked, managing an embarrassed smile. Gene grinned, about to make a smutty reply when she spoke again; "I feel a little bloated, that's all- it'll be better if I-!" She broke off as he rolled away with a groan, hands covering his face as he spoke.

"An' there he goes," he muttered darkly to himself, glancing down at his crotch tellingly, before allowing his head to fall back on the pillow with a sigh. Alex blinked in confusion, propping herself up on her elbow as she frowned down at him.

"What's wrong?" She asked, trailing her hand down his chest suggestively, heading ever lower as her eyes glimmered with lust. "I thought you liked-!"

"I love you ridin' me," Gene muttered through gritted teeth, catching her dancing hand in his own with a stifled groan. "I jus' don't need the extra details about you feelin' bloated!"

Alex rolled her eyes, lying down next to him with a half-laugh. "It's just a little excess air in my stomach, Gene, I'm not-!"

Gene looked at her darkly, as if in explanation, before shaking his head. "Get some sleep, Bolly," he murmured, lifting his arm and letting her cuddle up to his chest, "I'll de-bloat you in the morning." With a resigned sigh, he reached over to shut off the bedside light; not five minutes later, Alex got up to re-visit the toilet, to Gene's intense annoyance – she shrugged off his protests as she padded across to the bathroom, and he frowned slightly as he heard the door click quietly shut behind her, pulling his boxers back on before laying down to wait, his forehead creased in thought.

---

"Bols," Gene murmured tentatively a few minutes later, his hand in her hair as he gulped slightly in a bid to wet his dry mouth.

"Mmmm?" Her reply was tired, followed by a yawn, and Gene hesitated before he spoke again, his voice careful as he did so.

"When did yer last- y'know...?" He trailed off, glancing down at her and feeling her frown against his chest.

"When did I last what?" Alex asked, stifling a yawn as she draped her arm over his stomach, eyes fluttering closed as she listened. Gene's hesitance was telling, and she felt him gulp slightly yet again before he spoke, his voice sounding both dry and uncertain.

"Y'know... the last time you-" he hesitated, glancing down at her again before changing tact completely. "When did we last _not_ shag?"

"Last week," Alex replied, kissing his chest gently. "Now go to-"

"Before that," Gene implored, biting his lip and attempting to make out her expression through the darkness; all he could see was confusion, and he sighed, waiting for a reply.

"The week before that?" She said, frowning. "Or the one before that, after I spoke to Joe? Or after the tape? Or-?" She stopped, hesitating for a moment; her voice was quiet as she went on, attempting to choose her words carefully as she skirted around what she really meant. "When we went up to Manchester?"

Gene sighed, rolling his eyes as he slipped his arms more firmly around her back. "No," he sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Wake me up when the penny drops, would yer? Though I reckon it'll clang loud enough to wake the whole street anyway." He closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillow and sighing contentedly at the scent of her hair. She was tense, her face scrunched up in thought, and Gene briefly wondered if her brain had been addled by her stint of sickness before she shot bolt upright.

"Shit!" She gasped, hand over her mouth as she stared straight ahead.

"There it is!" he muttered, unable to resist the opportunity to tease her as he reached over to click the light back on; the sight of her was priceless, and it helped disguise the immediate panic that rose up in Gene's chest at the rapidly dawning prospect. Her eyes were wide, her skin slightly pale, and the hand that wasn't over her mouth was tangled in her hair as though she were about to tug it out - if it hadn't been for the hammering muscle in his chest, or the fact that he himself was counting back the days for the third time in an effort to reinforce his own sense of clarity, Gene might have laughed.

"Shit," Alex repeated softly, lowering her hand to the bed with a slow movement. Gene frowned, sitting up hesitantly as he tried to figure out what she was thinking; his arm went to snake around her shoulders, but she'd already leapt from the bed, rummaging hurriedly through her bedside drawer like a woman on a mission.

"Bols, I-!" He stopped, eyebrows knitting together in a frown as she drew out a small white box. "What the bloody hell 'ave you got one of them lyin' around for!" He asked bluntly, his voice completely bemused. She glowered at him for a brief moment, her expression full of annoyance.

"Why do you think I'd have a spare pregnancy test in my drawer, Gene? To curl my hair and play music on?" She slammed the drawer shut, moving to leave the room with the unmistakeable air of someone on edge; Gene was out of the bed with his arms wrapped around her less than a second later, stopping her in her tracks as he drew her back towards him.

"Alex," he murmured softly, tightening his arms around her. "Don't go in there pissed at me." His voice was pleading and soft, and the rigidity that had previously taken over her body lessened considerably as she turned around to look at him, biting down upon her lip, her eyes glistening slightly.

"What if I am pregnant?" She asked, ignoring his previous comment as she met his eyes with desperation. "I mean – do you want me to be?" She trailed off into silence as Gene's jaw tightened, the vein in his temple throbbing with nervousness as he glanced over her shoulder towards the open door.

Gulping slightly, he nodded slowly. "Yeah..." He murmured. "I mean..." he ran a hand through his hair, wetting his lips with his tongue before he went on. "I mean, it's a bit sooner than I thought," he admitted, gulping once again. "I- I mean... I thought we'd-" He stopped, seeing the fear in her eyes and instantly wrapping her in his arms, heart pounding. "Bugger it," he muttered, kissing her forehead hard. "Yes."

She frowned, glancing up at him. "Yes?" She said, sounding confused. "You mean-?"

"Yeah... I-..." he stroked her hair tentatively, trying to find something to do whilst he attempted to get his mouth around the words that stuck rebelliously in his throat. "Christ, Alex..." he murmured, tracing the tip of his finger over her cheek. "I'd love it, Bols," he finished, watching her carefully.

"You're- you're not scared?" She asked, disbelief edging into her tone. "I mean, you're not-?"

"I'm crappin' it, Bols," he muttered honestly, holding her as close as was physically possible so she wouldn't register the drawn fear and anticipation that clouded his face. "But if you piss on yer stick an' it comes out blue, I'll be cock-a-hoop..." Alex seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, her arms slipping around his back and squeezing tightly. After a few minutes listening to the pounding of his heart, she drew away, nodding to herself and breathing deeply.

"Ok," she murmured, squeezing his hand gently and biting on her lip. "Right... ok..."

Gene frowned, watching her nervously as she inhaled deeply, the white box still clenched in her hand. "Alex?" He murmured softly, stroking her hair and frowning worriedly. She met his eyes, and then shook herself, nodding again.

"Yes... right... Ok... I'll -" she glanced at him hesitantly, then down at the box in her hand as she bit her lip. "Come with me?"

Gene snorted in derision, shaking his head with a defiant laugh. "I ain't watching you piss on a stick, Bolly, no matter 'ow pregnant you may or may not be." His snort carried on, even as Alex glowered at him.

"It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before!" She protested, rolling her eyes.

"Answer's still no," Gene said resolutely, turning her around and pushing her firmly towards the door. "I'll wait 'ere with a fag an' you can go fiddle about with yer piss-stick." He slapped her lightly on the arse, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek before drawing back, hoping she didn't see the grimace that spread across his face at the thought of watching the whole event. She looked at him with pleading eyes, and he gulped, scratching his neck self-consciously.

"Please?" She murmured softly, and he groaned in annoyance at the pleading note that crept into her voice.

"Alright," he grumbled. "I'll stand outside, but that's it!" Still grimacing at the thought of it, he followed her onto the landing.

---

As it transpired, standing outside was equally as bad, if not worse than sitting in the bathroom with her. Though he was spared her odd desire for him to stand by and watch, somehow the noise of her taking the damn thing was just as bad as leaning over and shoving it between her legs for himself. And the whole experience was not helped by the fact that every now and then he'd hear her counting quietly to herself, or quietly encouraging the process along with murmured words.

After hearing her repeated grumblings of "come on, come on, come on!" for what felt like an hour, but was probably in fact as little as three minutes, Gene was inordinately relieved when Fitz appeared, apparently oblivious to the significance of the moment as he dropped his ball at Gene's feet and began wagging his tail encouragingly. With a half-grin, Gene tossed it down the stairs, watching as the dog scrambled to his feet and bounded down swiftly, his paws making such a loud noise on the wooden stairs that Gene flinched away from it; the clattering was repeated a few moments later as the hound raced back up, yapping his delight at the same moment that Alex opened the bathroom door.

---

She stood silently in the doorway to the bathroom, the test still held firmly in her hand as she met Gene's blue eyes. Her lip quivered with emotion as she attempted to speak, but she seemed incapable of making any noise whatsoever; despite trying desperately to think of something to say, Gene could only stand there, watching her carefully and attempting to guess the result through analysing her expression... It was impossible.

He thought he could see tears, but whether they were good or bad was hard to tell in the dim light. She was shivering slightly, but again, it could simply be because she was stood butt naked in the bathroom late at night, slap-bang in the middle of winter- shivering didn't mean anything.

Nervous, and still unable to think of anything sensible and assuring to say, Gene scratched at his neck, willing himself not to blurt out some blunt and offensive remark in an effort to cover up his discomfort. So instead, he stood silently, gulping and watching, his eyes fixed concernedly on hers; she didn't say anything.

It was Fitz who eventually broke the silence a few moments later, sniffing most interestedly around Alex's hands, and sneezing pointedly a moment later, his large head hitting against the floor once, then twice, before he shook himself firmly, settling down on the landing with his eyes fixed suspiciously upon Alex's hand. Gene found himself laughing despite himself, watching Alex carefully as her lips twitched up into a small, almost reluctant smile. He waited a moment, seeing the way she bit down on her lip nervously, before suddenly she was holding the test out towards him, her mouth set thinly as her hand trembled.

He reached out tentatively, his long fingers closing around her wrist as he pulled it towards him, shivers of anticipation tracking up and down his spine as he looked at it... For a moment, his father's all-too familiar, angry, bitter face flashed before his eyes, and his hands clammed up with sweat as he found himself overwhelmed with the reality of the situation; fear gripped at his stomach, clenching and churning repeatedly in his gut, and for a few terrifying milliseconds, he hoped it was negative...

And then Alex's familiar, yet distant voice broke through the haze, words that were said months ago echoing in his ears as he remembered the feel of her hand in his hair, the sensation of holding her, the scent of her shampoo, and the overwhelming assurance that her presence had instilled within him as she'd met his eyes and spoken; "you could _never_ turn out like him."

Warmth spread through him as he glanced down, and as his eyes were met with the sight of a thin blue line, his heart pounded with excitement and adrenaline; the fear was still there, lining his stomach with nerves and clamming his hands with sweat, but the joy won out, the prospect that Alex was carrying his child ousting almost everything else from his mind.

Practically giddy with emotion, he looked up into the depths of her hazel eyes, and gulped, seeing the same combination of fear and joy reflected in the flecks of colour that he loved so deeply, wondering if she knew what he was thinking, if she understood how much it meant...

Without thinking, he drew her into his arms, her naked body stretched wonderfully along his partially clothed one, feeling her trembling with excitement and delight as his lips found hers; the kiss was hard, desperate, tender and loving all at the same time, and he lost himself in the thrill of her response, in the tide of delight cresting in his stomach as she returned the fervour ounce for ounce.

When he finally pulled away, he reached out to cup her face, his hands framing her cheeks delicately as he met her eyes again, unable to keep his mouth from twitching into a grin. "Happy?" He asked softly, stroking away the delicate tears that trickled from her eyes with the pad of his thumb.

"Yes," she whispered, smiling widely through her tears and swiping one-handed at the few he missed. "You?"

He pulled her closer, his arms tight around her back, mouth next to her ear and heart hammering wildly in his chest as he nodded. "Yes," he murmured, stroking her hair.

"Really?" Alex whispered, her head resting against his cheek.

Gene nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead before allowing a smirk to grace his lips. "Yes," he repeated, grinning as he leant forwards to growl softly in her ear. "Come back to bed and I'll show you."

---

**;-) Did I fool you? Couldn't have you guessing what the thin blue line was now, could I?**

**Hope you liked it! As far as the spare test in the drawer goes, I have a friend who keeps three at all times, just in case.... And I could see Alex doing it lol...**

**Probably only the epilogue to go now – thank you so much to everyone who's read and reviewed so far – I hope it's been worth it. I've got an idea for a sequel, but it depends what Series three brings us!**

**Mage of the Heart**


	42. The End Where I Begin

**I don't own Ashes to Ashes**

**This is it...**

**Thank you all for reading; I hope the finish works.**

**----**

The morning of Ciaran Merlot's trial dawned crisp and grey, and Gene found himself awake at the crack of dawn, stood in the untended back garden with a cigarette in one hand, and a whiskey-tinted coffee in the other. He was dressed in his jeans and Rugby shirt – the same ensemble he had worn when Alex had first called him over to her flat in the dead of night – and was vaguely aware of the fact that the chill which crept over his bones was not solely due to the ridiculous notion of negating a coat in the middle of winter; he realized all too well that it was, at least in part, down to the knowledge that the McKellen case would soon be over, whatever the outcome, and he possessed no further part in the proceedings.

Joe Ellison had already been sent down for eight months, despite a particularly moving argument on his lawyers part that the older man had been led to believe a lie through no fault of his own, concurrent with the illness that Sophia Merlot had so robustly exploited in her favour. Sophia herself was currently awaiting trial, although the defence lawyer seemed to hold little hope for her fate, pending the forensic evidence from the lab, and the statements by both Ciaran and Joe which placed her at the scene of Rosa's death- since Ciaran was pleading guilty to murder, and the evidence dictated that he had in fact been there, his word was being taken most seriously, and it seemed unlikely that Sophia would manage to wheedle out of the charge of accomplice without some bizarre and well-timed act of God, which, given the circumstances, would be seemingly undeserved.

Of all three cases, however, Gene knew he was most concerned with Ciaran's; it wasn't that he believed the teenager didn't deserve what was coming his way – far from it, in fact. The whole thing had been one of the most gruesome and taxing cases Gene had ever had to work on, and he was in no doubt that Ciaran was to blame, however much Rosa had coerced and cheated him.

No, what bothered him wasn't the fact Ciaran was going to prison – it was the fact that the teenager had accepted it with such easy nonchalance; most people who went to prison disputed it, and even those who pleaded guilty feared the lonely nights in a dark, damp cell, with a cell-mate who was probably capable of murdering them in their sleep... But not Ciaran; Ciaran, it would seem, welcomed the idea, as if with open arms. He held no qualms that he deserved it, and nor did he protest that he would die in prison, or that he wouldn't last a week; he simply accepted it, and sat back to wait for his sentencing.

From all that Gene could gather, the teenager was looking forward to a lonely life in a cell, during which he could relive countless times the moments of he and Rosa's cherished love, and the final act of passion that had so far proved to be nothing but painful for him.

The only time that Gene had spoken to Ciaran since charging him, the boy had only shrugged, asked the result of the latest football game, and claimed that love was worth every ounce of pain that prison would send his way; Gene had left without speaking, trying to ignore the dazed, almost wistful look that had broached Ciaran's eyes – he could only hope that he had imagined it.

"Gene?"

The gentle voice broke through the haze of thought instantly, and he looked around to see Alex, wrapped in his overcoat and clutching a cup of hot water in her hands – caffeine, it would seem, didn't agree with the child currently residing in her stomach, and she had taken to drinking no tea or coffee whatsoever.

Gene smiled weakly over at her, his eyes trailing appreciatively up over her fabric-swathed body as he felt a warm, flipping sensation in the pit of his stomach. He vaguely wondered if he would ever tire of the sight of her, if her curves would ever fail to fascinate him, before he lifted his arm, allowing her to move closer and rest her head against his shoulder. She held the cup in one hand, allowing her other arm to slip around his back as she glanced worriedly up at him.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly, biting slightly upon her lower lip. Gene shrugged, lifting his cigarette to his lip and taking a slow drag, before catching the disapproving look she sent his way and dropping the offending item to the floor, stubbing it out with his foot.

"Sorry," he muttered, grimacing. With his hand now free, he slipped it around her waist, resting it protectively against her still flat stomach as he kissed her forehead very briefly. "I'm fine," he assured her belatedly, breathing deeply. "Just- I dunno..." he shrugged, taking a large swig of coffee before muttering, "forget it, Bols. Let's go back to bed." He emptied the last dregs of drink into his mouth, and then led her inside, his hand still splayed over the as yet unseen bump of their child as he went; Alex covered his hand with hers, smiling slightly up at him.

The shift in his character had been almost immediate having discovered her pregnancy, and she had come to find it both frustrating and endearing in turn. Whilst previously his public attentions had been relatively few and far between, it soon became common practice that if Alex were stood at the bar in Luigi's, or even sat down on one of the stools, Gene would stand close behind her, his arm firmly around her waist and hand placed protectively across her stomach. Sometimes, it annoyed her, particularly when one of the team approached them in the bar and Gene resolutely pushed himself into their line of vision, as if threatening to castrate them were they to step much closer.

On other occasions, however, the sheer, feral masculinity of it had Alex biting her lip and quivering with arousal, and it was all she could do to wait until he finished his drink before begging him to take her home. On such evenings, Gene was more than willing to abide by her wishes, showing her repeatedly how thrilled he was that her sexual libido had in fact not decreased, but risen exponentially. And whilst there was no denying that before the pregnancy the pair of them had been nearly insatiable, recently Alex had barely been able to keep her hands off him...

Not that Gene minded of course – the sex-on-tap did more than enough to compensate for his incapability to form coherent thoughts the rest of the time, and it was completely worth walking around with a near-constant ache in his bollucks. He'd been worried at first that the pair of them would suddenly become old bores, who occasionally had a tumble on anniversaries or birthdays; thankfully, he'd come to like Alex's pregnancy a great deal, and the likelihood of boredom seemed to be slimming by the day.

"Gene?" Alex rubbed his shoulder lightly as they lay in the bed, her lips pressing against his neck for a few brief moments before she glanced up into his eyes. He shifted slightly to look at her, arm wrapping around her waist as he tucked her firmly into his chest, saying nothing. Alex sighed, gently caressing his neck with elegant fingers as she pressed a soft kiss to his pulse. "You do remember what I said, Gene, don't you?" She whispered, looking up and holding his gaze for a few moments; his frown was evident, and she sighed again before speaking. "About this not being the end? I'm not going anywhere after today; I love you, and-"

"It's not about that," Gene smiled reluctantly, pressing his lips to her forehead and rubbing his hand gently against her shoulder. "Wouldn't let you bugger off with my kiddywink in yer stomach, anyway..." pulling her closer, he smirked, "I'm afraid you've got at least seven months left with me, love."

"I won't leave," Alex assured him softly, caressing his cheek. "You've got nothing to fear in that respect."

"Yeah," Gene smiled, hugging her tightly. "Good..."

She looked at him carefully, waiting for him to speak; when he didn't, she sighed, resting her head against him and allowing her hand to trace delicate patterns across his chest and stomach. He groaned slightly, allowing her the enjoyment of this simple act for several moments, before gently catching her hand, and twining their fingers together; with a contented sigh, he drifted into a doze.

----

Gene led the way out of the court room with his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the glances she kept sneaking in his direction, and lighting up a cigarette despite her disapproval. Alex didn't voice her annoyance, although she did shrug herself slightly out of his hold and move to simply stand beside him in the street. He leaned against the railing before him, taking a deep drag and saying nothing until he had inhaled and exhaled several times. When he did speak, he failed to meet her eyes, and his voice was gruff and quiet.

"He'd be better off in prison," he murmured, stubbing the cigarette out on the metal and dropping the butt to the floor. Alex remained quiet, saying nothing, but moving closer and slipping herself into the circle of his arms, lips falling to his throat for a brief moment as she allowed him to continue speaking. "If he wasn't messed up before, he'll be screwed as a prozzie now."

"Maybe it's for the best," Alex supplied, reaching for his hand and squeezing gently. "He's not well, Gene; maybe he-"

"He's not mad, Bolly," he answered, shaking his head. "He got fucked around, and he's a naive little shit, but he's not mad – he knew just what he was doing, and he knew it wasn't right. He should be in prison servin' it, not 'aving needles shoved up his arse 'cause they think he's cuckoo." He resisted the urge to reach for another cigarette, pressing a hard kiss to her forehead and sighing deeply, closing his eyes to the scent of her.

"Gene, they know what they're doing," Alex replied, touching his cheek gently. "Trust them; if they think he'll be better off getting help, then maybe you need to just-"

"You know as well as I do they get it wrong sometimes," Gene growled, gulping hard in his throat as he drew back slightly. "He could go in there as sane as I am an' still come out more messed up than the rest of 'em; they should've sent him to prison an' let 'im live with it."

"You don't really think he was sane, do you?" Alex asked, touching his shoulder hesitantly. "I mean, honestly sane – sane enough that he knew just what he was doing and why?"

"I think he was in love," Gene answered, voice softer than before. "An' if bein' in love makes you mad, Bols, then almost every bugger in a police cell should be off to the loony bin with a straight jacket an' a sedative; I've been bangin' up scummy bastards fer nearly thirty years, Alex, an' of all the shitty murderers, rapists and serial killers, he's one of the sanest buggers I've met! He knew what he was doin'; he deserves a cold cell an' a hairy French bloke, not a warm bed an' mollycoddlin' from some waddlin' old ninny!"

Alex sighed, standing on tiptoe to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, feeling the tension of his shoulders relax slightly as she rested her head against his. "We were never going to like how this case ended," she murmured rationally, dusting at his coat absently with one hand. "Whether he'd ended up in prison or hospital, we'd have thought they'd got it wrong – maybe he isn't well, and maybe he is. Either way, he'll be living with what he did for the rest of his life – you know as well as I do that he won't let himself forget."

Gene glanced at her, and then sighed, stroking her hair and resting his head atop hers. "Yeah..." he conceded, closing his eyes briefly as she gently squeezed him in return. A few moments of contentment passed, in which Gene allowed the anger and frustration to seep out of his body, welcoming the warmth of her and indulging himself with the intense glow of joy that radiated through his body. Alex's hand reached down to draw his own to her stomach, rubbing warmth into his chilled skin, before holding the hand gently in place against her. Gene smiled, cracking his eye open and drawing back to tentatively caress her cheek with his spare hand.

"How's the mini-Genie?" He asked, smirking as she rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Not quite ready to leave the bottle," she replied, catching his fingers with hers and smirking wickedly. "But if you direct your rubbing elsewhere, I'll be sure to reward your efforts and grant you a wish..." she trailed off, licking her lips suggestively as he chuckled, hand slipping slightly higher to tease the underside of her breast with his thumb, eyes locked on hers as he spoke.

"Only one?" He murmured, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I thought three was standard?"

"Mmmm, yes, but I'm pregnant – get very tired, very easily. It's more difficult than it looks you know..." her hand drifted down across the silk fabric of his tie, tickling briefly across his stomach as Gene chuckled, leaning closer and growling softly in her ear.

"I better make it count then, hadn't I?" Without waiting for a reply, he tugged her firmly down the concrete steps and towards the car.

----

They fell naked onto the bed with little or no semblance of grace, Alex giggling into his neck as he pushed swiftly into her, his teeth and lips leaving caresses and marks in their wake as he slowly tracked upwards from shoulder to ear. The sigh of pleasure that left her lips caused him to smile, and he moved slowly within her, gently kneading one of her breasts in his large left hand, whilst stroking across the tender, sensitive flesh behind her knee with the other. The breathless laugh that emerged from her was warm and rich, and Gene's whole being responded to it; with a gentle hand, he hooked her leg over his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss into Alex's thigh as she pushed her hips encouragingly up at him. His eyes were closed as he sank into her over and over, breath coming short as she murmured gently up at him, her words barely audible as her head fell back against the pillow, hair in disarray, as her hand swept across his shoulder and down his chest.

"I love you," she whispered, eyes glazing over with pleasure as her other hand clenched reflexively at the fabric of the duvet. "Gene- oh, God, Gene... I love you..."

"Shhh..." he murmured, rolling her nipple between his fingers and pumping his hips slightly faster, mouth open slightly as his head lolled back, sinking his length deep into her body. His free arm wrapped firmly around her thigh, urging her gently against him as he groaned a harsh, bitty reply. "Tell me later, Bols," he managed, grunting slightly as her fingers traced teasingly across his stomach and down towards his navel. "Preferably when I'm not busy tryin' to shag you senseless..."

He bit gently down on her thigh, her moan like music to his ears as her whole body shook with pleasure and anticipation. His hips moved more quickly, blurring against her hips as he pushed faster into her, lifting himself onto his knees and directing her hips with both of his hands, pulling her swiftly over his length with lustful and yet still tender direction. Alex gasped beneath him, her hands finding his shoulder, nails digging into soft flesh as she responded to his touch, urging him on as his fingers sought the sensitive nub between her legs, rubbing her gently with the rough pad of his thumb as he left a bright red mark upon her leg with his teeth and lips.

"Shit!" Alex gasped, the combined sensations overloading her mind and body with pleasure until she was trembling on the brink, her brow coated with sweat as Gene pounded into her, his eyes now closed as he worked her swiftly with his fingers. Her sharp nails dug into his back, drawing a hint of blood as she dragged herself up towards him, wrapping her arms firmly around his neck as he crashed his mouth against hers, swiftly dislodging her leg from his shoulder as he moved eagerly within her.

Alex's words continued, a flurry of gasped and breathless profanities uttered against his lips as hands, mouth and length worked her knowingly and expertly to her peak. When finally she began to tighten, when eventually she threw her head back and loosed a guttural moan that shot straight to Gene's groin, he tensed, jerking her body more firmly against his own as his thrusts became erratic, lustful and full of desire.

"Fuck!" Alex moaned, tangling her hands in his hair and jerking it slightly as her body writhed with uncontrolled pleasure. "Oh shit, Gene- Gene... fuck... so good... so- so- Christ! Gene! Shit!"

He managed a throaty chuckle as he attempted to ride out her orgasm, his chest glimmering with sweat as he went. She tightened around him with a wanton moan of delight, and he realized he was lost, instantly following it up with three hasty thrusts before releasing deeply into her, over and over again, their joined bodies still trembling with release as they collapsed back onto the duvet. His body covered hers easily, almost protectively, and Alex vaguely noted that Gene was lifting himself slightly upon his elbows to relieve her of the burden of his weight; she smiled, her eyes glazing slightly as she pressed her lips gently to his still thundering pulse.

"Christ," Gene muttered breathlessly, his hot breath whispering across her flesh as he tenderly caressed her cheek. "Don't think I'll ever get bored of shaggin' you, Bols," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her ear. "Especially if you keep swearin' like a sewer rat fer the next thirty years..." He kissed her lightly once again, then rolled to the side, sighing weakly when she rolled over to enter into his embrace, her head resting on his chest with a noise of contented happiness.

"Well, if you keep shagging me quite so efficiently, the swearing will most definitely remain." Her lips chastely brushed his chest, and she felt the thrum of smugness that emanated from him as she lay alongside him, her body still quaking with delight. It was several minutes later, when her breathing had returned to normal and the pounding of her heart had levelled out slightly, that Alex looked up at him, a weary but playful smile on her face.

"I love you," she grinned, seeing the familiar twitch of his lips and wondering if he'd expected the repeat so soon. He shifted closer, hand in her hair and smile on his lips as he nodded, smirking to himself.

"Only sensible," he murmured, gently rubbing his nose against her forehead and smirking at her slight laugh.

"Oh really?" she asked, sounding amused; Gene grinned.

"Course," he answered, cracking open an eyelid and smiling down at her. "I'm a copper; best shag you'll ever get, an' I can waggle me warrant card whenever yer start misbehaving..." he grinned, chuckling when he saw the sardonic amusement that covered Alex's face.

"Misbehaving?" She queried, shifting slightly closer and hooking her leg over him, feeling the tip of his length against her thigh and wondering how long it would be before he took advantage of their renewed proximity. "How might I do that?"

Gene glanced suggestively down, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Reckon you keep shiftin' that leg about an' I can give you a demonstration."

"Sounds intriguing," Alex teased, stroking his chest dotingly. "And I believe you've still got a wish to make, Mr Hunt... want to collect?"

Gene smirked, lips twitching slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to her brow. "Depends," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Any terms?"

"Anything within reason..." she smiled, scraping her fingers gently across his stubble and pressing a gentle kiss to his chest.

He looked at her thoughtfully, eyes falling to her lips, and then lifting back up to her face. His thumb stroked gently down her cheek and across her lips, his eyes warm... Then he leaned forwards, his lips brushing gently across the shell of her ear before he spoke, his voice a soft, gruff whisper, laced with sincerity and warmth. "Marry me," he murmured, his eyes closed as his arms noticeably tightened around her. He could feel her body tense with surprise, felt her twist her head around to look at him, and he cursed himself inwardly for his stupidity, instantly back-pedalling and attempting to throw her off. "Forget it," he said instantly, shaking his head and drawing away. "Just bein' thick. I'll just go an'-" He had dislodged her leg and was halfway out of the bed before Alex's hand caught his wrist, her expression surprised but not, if Gene was correct, unnerved.

"Do you want to?" She asked, after a few moments of watching him carefully. He thought he saw her lips twitch, and he sank slowly back into the bed, mouth pursed thoughtfully before he shrugged.

"Makes sense," Gene muttered, scratching his head distractedly. "I mean- you're preggers, we're livin' together, we 'aven't killed each other yet..." He shrugged, gently touching her stomach as he finished. "Don't see why not..."

"Gene, me being pregnant isn't enough to base a marriage upon... There's got to be more than that, or we won't even get down the aisle." She stroked his cheek lightly, smiling warmly up at him. "I'm a modern girl, Gene – if that's what brought this on I'm more than happy to just live together."

Gene said nothing, reaching over to his bedside table and getting up to light a cigarette, opening the window slightly and standing across the room to smoke it, his eyes not leaving her as she sat forwards on the bed, her knees held up to her chest as she returned his gaze levelly.

"That's not it, Alex," he murmured eventually, shaking his head and swallowing hard. "I- I jus' think we could do it, Bols... be a family; me, you an' the sprog –may as well stick a ring on yer finger an' make sure nobody else gets any ideas." He took a deep drag on his cigarette, averting his eyes slightly as he exhaled through the window by turning his head to the left. When he looked back at her, she was smiling, her chin resting on her arms as she shook her head slowly from side to side.

"They can have whatever ideas they like, Gene – I won't let them try them out." She waited, watching as he shrugged and took another drag. A few moments later, she spoke again, her voice soft. "I thought you didn't want to get married again."

"Never said that," Gene answered swiftly, exhaling shakily. "Said she'd 'ave to be a demon in the sack – an' yer might not wear devil horns or nout Bolly, but I've seen you do things some prozzies wouldn't."

"Like what?" Alex laughed, shaking her head. "We're adventurous, Gene, but I'd hardly say we were ground-breakingly filthy.

Gene chuckled, stubbing out his cigarette and blowing smoke slowly from between his lips. "Point is," he smiled, avoiding the question, "if I'm ever gunna get married again, it'll be to you; may as well make it official an' make sure the sprog keeps 'is dignity – Christ knows he'll need it with two coppers fer parents." He reached for his cigarettes habitually, placing another one between his lips and lighting up a moment later.

Alex frowned her disapproval, but didn't verbally reprimand him, instead slipping from the bed and walking over to wrap her arms around his waist. If she felt his surprise, she gave no sign, resting her head against his shoulder and kissing the warm flesh gently. He wrapped one arm around her, stubbing out the newly-lit cigarette with his other hand before embracing her tightly, his nose in her hair as he inhaled deeply.

"I love you," he muttered eventually, his mouth cotton-dry, just as it always was when he told her how he truly felt. "Reckon I could spend my life doin' it if you'd let me... An' if that's what yer want, we might as well get hitched so every other nosy bastard who looks at yer arse knows an' all..." He gulped slightly kissing her forehead hard before speaking again, his voice soft. "Will that do?"

She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes with hers; Gene was surprised to see that her lip was trembling, and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "That'll more than do," she whispered, standing on tiptoe to kiss him, her mouth soft and gentle against his. She was surprised when he reached for her hand, pulling it to his chest and kissing her chastely just once before he pulled away, meeting her gaze as his fingers wrapped around hers. There was a moment where he frowned, glancing down at her hand before smiling nervously.

"Ain't bought you a ring yet," he said honestly, forehead crinkling. "Sort of- wasn't plannin' to ask yer for a while yet... Was gunna take you out an' get yer pissed first..." He grinned nervously, stroking her cheek for a few moments before frowning, wetting his lips with his tongue. "I'll take yer tomorrow," he promised, kissing her softly on the forehead. "You can swoon over diamonds while I get pissed in the pub, then if I'm really hammered I'll take you out - somewhere posh."

Alex smiled, stroking his cheek as she shook her head slowly from side to side. "You can take me out for dinner," she promised him. "In fact, there's a lovely French restaurant I've been looking at for months! You-"

"Won't ever be that pissed," Gene interjected with a grimace.

She smiled, ignoring him as she went on. "You can even go to the pub all afternoon and get drunk if you like – but you're not buying me another ring."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Gene muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing instantly. "I ain't havin' the other blokes sayin' I'm too tight to give you a bloody engagement ring, Bolly – they'll be sniffin' around yer skirts like dogs!"

"I've already got a ring!" Alex said, smiling as she touched his cheek with her hand. "One that means everything to me..."

"That's not the same," Gene murmured, grimacing slightly, although he felt his heart skip as he realized exactly what she meant, as he heard the unmistakeable sincerity in her voice. "I wasn't proposin' then – I am now. It's not fer that, it's-"

"Gene," she whispered, stroking his lip with the soft pad of her thumb. "I know how much this ring means to you – I know what you meant when you gave it to me; and married or otherwise, no other ring will ever come close." She leaned forwards, catching his lips in a tender kiss as she whispered against his mouth. "I love you... I don't need a new ring- I just need to know it's mine." She pressed her lips harder against his, tongue swiping across his lips as she closed her eyes to his familiarly breath-taking embrace.

Her hands went around his neck, and she laced them together with ease, drawing the ring from her left middle-finger with some difficulty, before finally dropping her hand down to find his, pressing the ring gently into Gene's palm as she nipped lightly at his lower lip. His hand closed firmly around hers, the other tangled in her hair, drawing her closer against him as Alex smiled against his lips. "Bring it to dinner," she whispered, squeezing again at his hand. "You can ask me again then."

"Mmm..." Gene murmured. "I'm not sure you've actually said 'yes' yet..." Trailing off, he closed the distance between their mouths once more as he kissed her firmly. "But I'm sure you'll convince me..." He tugged her against him, giving her no chance to reply as he walked her back towards the bed, pausing only once to place the ring in its box, which resided, as it always did, in the bedside drawer.

A moment later, he pushed her gently to the mattress, kissing her soundly all over again.

---

Gene watched with a small, tired smile on his face as she slept soundly beside him, the duvet resting low on her hips as she lay curled into his side, hand resting gently across his chest. The dim light that crept through the window caused the ring on her wedding finger to glitter slightly in the light, casting strange shapes onto the wall of their bedroom as it did so.

Warmth spread through his chest as he remembered the smile on her face as he'd asked her a second time, and the gentle caress of her lips against his as she'd leant across the table to kiss him warmly... Smiling slightly, he shifted closer, pressing his own lips against her brow as he held her clse.

It struck him suddenly, laying with her wrapped in his arms, how very far he had come; less than a year ago, the idea that he would be laying in bed with Alex Drake had been nothing more than a ridiculous, unattainable fantasy, one that had plagued his thoughts and dreams, but always seemed too far out of reach to ever become a reality. Now, he was living with her, sleeping beside her every night as she carried his unborn child, and awaiting the day in the not too distant future when he could call her his wife... And yet, he realized, the most profound difference lay in the simple knowledge that she loved him, that she welcomed him into her life openly, and that, in doing so, she'd allowed him to love her back.

It might have taken a violent murder to bring them together, and a grieving, guilt-stricken teenager to make him realize the real depth of his feelings, but he knew now that she was his everything – his world, his whole life, his future... And although the verdict of the case had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and despite the knowledge that Rosa McKellen had destroyed the lives of two boys foolish enough to fall for her, Gene began to understand, with a clarity that had always escaped him, why love was held in such high esteem.

He had seen it tear people's lives to shreds, and he'd seen the anger and hatred it could lead to – but at the same time, it had changed his life, given him warmth and security that had before been lost in the years of self-contempt and bitterness; he felt more alive and invigorated than he could ever remember being. His life had finally gained meaning beyond the four walls of his office and the paintwork of his car, and the knowledge was both exhilarating, and, quite frankly, terrifying.

He leaned forwards slowly, pressing his lips tenderly to hers as he smiled to himself. His hand slipped absently to her stomach, stroking across the warm flesh as his heart swelled with pride at the knowledge of the life that grew within her. He'd certainly come a long way, he smiled to himself – as long as the sprog didn't support Manchester United, he could quite believe that his life would be complete... Even if he would never admit it to anyone but her.

"Night Bols," he murmured, kissing her cheek softly. After a few moments of hesitation, glancing at Alex's peaceful face and concluding that she was, in fact, asleep, he shifted slightly and lowered his mouth to her stomach. "Night Sproggy," he whispered, gently kissing the warm flesh. He felt Alex stir, instantly freezing in place as she did so.

"Gene?" She asked tiredly, voice slightly hazy. "Are you talking to my tummy?"

"No," Gene answered swiftly, shifting between her legs and moving further down her stomach, kissing across her flesh as he shook his head. "Just wakin' you up..."

Alex smiled, giggling as he kissed her inner thigh. "I haven't had the chance to sleep yet... And I'm not called 'Sproggy', and if I-" she broke off with a shrieking laugh as Gene tickled her viciously on her sides, pinning her firmly down as she attempted to wriggle out of his reach.

"Do something useful with yer mouth, Bolly," Gene grunted, pinning her down and pressing his hips firmly against hers. "There's a pipe down there that could use some attention!" She giggled as he moved further up her body, lips firm against her skin as he went.

"What about Sproggy?" She teased as his hand travelled up and over her stomach. He stilled for only a moment before tickling her again, delighting in the raucous shrieks of laughter that left her mouth as she slapped his hands away.

Gene kissed her firmly, chuckling against her mouth as she continued to wriggle uncontrollably beneath him, before pushing the duvet off their bodies and allowing his body to melt into hers all over again.

**----**

**And that, my dear readers, is that! **

**I hope that the final chapter tied up any loose ends, and that it was a satisfying finish – it's the end of the line for now, but I've got a sequel lined up in my head if the mood takes me... It's just a matter of when, where and how!**

**Thank you, as ever, for all of your encouragement with this story, and for sticking with it to the end – it would never have gotten anywhere without you all, and I hope it's been enjoyable! I'm sort of flabbergasted that I've managed to finish it, and that it's gone on as long as it had – hope it's been worth it.**

**Thank you.**

**Mage of the Heart**


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